


Future Legend

by parakitty



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Extreme AU, F/F, F/M, Incomplete, SQBB Summer 2014, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Swan Queen - Freeform, Uber, post apocalyptic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parakitty/pseuds/parakitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three slaves escape into the wastelands beyond a city’s heavily fortified walls. Forced into an arrangement with a motley group of thieves, they struggle to survive while avoiding recapture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Legend

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't gotten permission to use the artwork. However, I wanted to place a link to the pieces ruggedpencil took the time to create for the Swan Queen Big Bang. I encourage everyone to visit and leave the artist a few kind words and a kudos. :)  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378234

**Future Legend  
** _A Swan Queen Story_

**Author:** parakitty  
 **Co-Author / Beta:** Lain Stardust

**Summary:** Three slaves escape into the wastelands beyond a city’s heavily fortified walls. Forced into an arrangement with a motley group of thieves, they struggle to survive while avoiding recapture.

**General Genre(s):** Post-apocalyptic / Action-Adventure / Sci-Fi

**Rating:** R / MA

**Pairing(s):** Emma/Regina (setup), David/Mary Margaret, Gold/Cora

**Spoilers:** None

**Warning(s):** Strong language / Graphic violence / Animal violence / Sexual situations

**General Disclaimer(s):** We, the authors of this particular work of fiction, claim no profit or protégé, and mean no disregard to any reviewing or sovereign party. By extension and addition, we mean no disrespect to anyone associated with the development or portrayal of the fictional characters contained within this work or the universe in which they inhabit. This work of fiction’s primary purpose remains free, personal entertainment as well as the possible entertainment of others.

**Author’s Note:** In this story, Henry is Emma’s younger brother. Also be advised, this story has gotten away from us in terms of plot and has developed into something much more complex than we originally anticipated. (Thank my co-author for her over active imagination but ultimately, it’s no one’s fault but our own.) Thus, this story has become another slow burn Swan Queen. Even with faster relationship development than in _Nothing Comes from Nothing_ , this project was frustrating. We broke up the plot into parts and made Part 1 strictly pre-relationship setup. :/ Alas, time and real life responsibilities among other headaches were the enemy. It also didn’t help we’d traveled across country (again) to help my mother move from MD to TX. (It’s a good thing!) But unfortunately, that ate up a lot of our time. Regardless, we hope you enjoy this story as much as we’ve enjoyed writing it. We have plans to continue, just not in contribution with future Swan Queen Big Bang events.

~SQ~ 

**Part 1**

“Come on, girl. Get up!”

Regina barely registered it as the leather clad hand of her adoptive grandmother tightly gripped her left biceps and yanked forward, forcing her onto her feet again. Condensation dripped from above and mingled with the sweat rolling down the sides of her face as the brunette struggled to keep moving, not that she could really see where she was going. She tripped yet again as she staggered along.

They’d been running full tilt, or at least trying to, through the near pitch black of the cramped, forgotten water-work tunnels for over an hour. Was the smell of rot strong enough to cover their scent? The air tasted of dirt and decay. Regina’s cropped, dark brown hair was plastered against her head. Her breathing was labored and coming in heavy, hot breaths. She sounded so loud. How had she not given away their location, yet?

With only the dim light of the bioluminescent mushrooms dotting the tunnels, she kept stumbling over or running into the fallen debris of broken brick and crumbled concrete. There were pieces of rusty, iron rebar poking out from almost every direction. But stopping meant death or, worse, getting caught. She was thankful for her grandmother’s gentle nudges, guiding her around large obstacles as best she could in the tight, dark space. For the first time in a very long time, Regina wished she was a werewolf.

“We’re almost out of the tunnels,” her grandmother whispered, watching her fatigued granddaughter with growing concern. Her enhanced vision took in Regina’s haggard appearance. It wasn’t fair expecting a non-werewolf to perform like one.

But Regina pushed onward. They just had to make it out of the dilapidated tunnels, across a stretch of uninhabitable farmland and into the cover of forest. From there, the ravines and craggy foothills of the Iron Wastes would shield them long enough to plan their next move. Officially, the region to the south of Holrustin was cordoned off because of dangerous radiation levels. However, everyone knew it was the harsh, multigenerational practices of Spencer’s industrial farming that had depleted the once fertile topsoil.

“Ruby,” the brunette rasped. She hadn’t seen her sister for some time now, and that unduly worried her exhausted mind. She started to turn around but was stopped by her grandmother.

“She’s here,” Eugenia confirmed, glancing behind them to see the massive, reddish-brown wolf. Amber eyes caught the soft green hue from the fungus. The beast’s body almost filled the girth of the narrow tunnel. Superior werewolf senses gave them both an advantage that Regina simply couldn’t maintain in her drained state. But Eugenia and Ruby would never abandon her; they were family. “I see the exit,” she whispered, spotting the shifting moonlight over a hundred meters ahead.

That provided the incentive the brunette needed. That particular abandoned tunnel system exited over one-point-five kilometers from the nearest working tracking tower. Outside the city, they were usually in poor repair, providing only partial coverage. And from there, it was a mere two kilometers to the cover of sparse forest. Success in escaping the city and Rupert Gold’s vice-like control would increase exponentially the further they went. However, it wouldn’t be safe to rest until they were nestled in the dusty earth of the rugged Iron Wastes.

When the southern farmlands were rendered uninhabitable over half a century ago, all resources of notable value were reclaimed. Any infrastructure meant to support civilized life was removed and repurposed. Families and entire settlements were forced to relocate for the benefit of the city. However, whether due to cost, time constraints or simple indolence, no one bothered to run detailed, subterranean scans of the central acreage within the massive blocks of dusty fields. The tunnels, which had existed long before the dead farming community, were missed.

Regina had discovered faded blueprints of the waterworks months ago. The dull, rolled up papers had fallen behind some grimy file cabinets in an overflowing storage room in the underground levels of Gold’s grand compound within the city’s fortified walls. As the room was to be converted into a kennel and its contents destroyed, she’d thought nothing of the plans until things started turning bad, learning that Leopold and Midas had entered a bidding war to purchase her from Gold, that her grandmother was going to be fodder for the Arena games, and that Ruby was slated for breeding stock.

When the three finally made it out into the open, cool night air, Regina fell down onto her hands and knees in the tall prairie grasses obscuring the half buried tunnel exit. She was beyond exhausted. Her hair and clothes were saturated with sweat and blood as she was repeatedly caught by the rebar. Basking in the gentle breeze, she struggled to stand up again. A gentle nuzzle and a whimper drew her brown eyes to amber ones. She half smiled and affectionately rubbed the wolf’s ear. “I’m okay,” she said, lying. Her heart felt as if it would burst out of her chest.

“Drink this,” Eugenia instructed, passing a canteen to her granddaughter. She rolled her shoulders and neck, wincing at the cracks and pops. It felt good to stand up straight again. She quickly readjusted her backpack and loaded a bolt in her crossbow. All the while, she scanned the horizon, searching for possible threats. She stared up at the open sky, watching as fluffy clouds drifted across the moon. There was a sense of freedom she hadn’t felt since she was a pup.

Resting on her knees, Regina eagerly guzzled the cool water. Her arms trembled just holding up the container. Wiping her mouth, she cupped her hand and slowly poured water into it. She smiled as the wolf happily enjoyed her own refreshing drink.

“Save some for me,” the grandmother lightly scolded, reaching for the canteen. After taking her own long drink, she sighed, clipping the container back on her belt. They could spare a few moments. “I’ve never been happier for an enchanted water flask,” she said. It had been a gift from Regina a long time ago, back when the girl was coming into her abilities.

Reluctantly, Ruby maneuvered her head under the brunette’s arm and nudged several times. They needed to get moving again.

“Are you sure?” Regina asked, pausing her absent stroking of the wolf’s ruff. She smiled at the rolling, soft growls as she lay across her sister’s back. She curled her body around the wolf, careful not to impede any movement. “Thank you,” she whispered, knowing how much Ruby hated carrying anything in wolf form.

“Just hold on,” Eugenia ordered. She adjusted her backpack and the crossbow’s strap again before jogging towards the forest. W _e’re going to make it_ , she thought as they bolted across the overgrown field of weeds and wild flowers. They were going to be free.

~SQ~

Emma Swan moved silently through the moon-cast shadows. Her movement was fluid and confident as she tiptoed from stone to stone, missing brambles and loose rocks. She avoided anything that could alert her quarry to her presence. One had to be especially careful when tracking werewolves. She had almost lost them twice—once, when the wind shifted and she had to backtrack to avoid detection and again, when they had slipped into the twisting ravines of the Iron Wastes foothills.

But now, they were in her sights. She crawled towards the edge of the gully, peering down to watch the two women and the wolf resting by a low campfire. It had been a big surprise when she’d spotted them dashing through the forest during the early hours of her lookout shift. No one ever made it to the forest from Holrustin, but somehow this unlikely trio had managed it.

Emma froze when the older woman suddenly got up and started walking around their camp. Her keen eyes took in every detail, knowing instantly this silver-haired lady in beaten, brown leathers with the finely crafted crossbow was a werewolf. But why hadn’t the wolf shifted to human form? Why was the wolf allowing that brunette to sleep curled against her? Her attention was drawn to the sleeping woman.

The brunette’s clothing consisted of finely crafted leathers and expensive fabrics, denoting her as someone of import or, at the very least, considerable skill. And although the grey and black garb was dirty and a little damaged, it was nothing a dunk in a river or a sewing needle wouldn’t easily fix. The low-heel, high-calf boots alone made Emma drool with jealousy. But the crossbow being toted around by the silver-haired woman was her real objective. Its shiny black metal had glinted in the moonlight, drawing her attention to the running escapees amidst the trees.

Backing up from the ledge, Emma decided the boots and crossbow were well worth the risk—not to mention the nice, fat backpack that was bound to be stuffed with goodies. Werewolves or not, the group would be exhausted for some time, certainly long enough for her to get reinforcements. How tough could three freshly escaped slaves really be?

~SQ~

“How long can we stay here?” Regina inquired, looking around the ravine. The dim red-orange light cast by the fire flickered and danced across the sheltering walls of rock. She refocused on the rabbit cooking over the camp fire. Reaching over with her right hand, she stroked Ruby along her side.

Unmoving, aside from her shifting eyes and ears, the wolf slowly wagged her bushy tail at the petting. She gazed forlornly at the solitary roasting rabbit. She was so hungry. One rabbit wasn’t going to be enough for all of them, but it was all she had found.

“Not long,” Eugenia answered, checking their meal with a large knife she normally kept sheathed in her right boot. “We’ll head out at first light and get as far away from Hunger City as possible.” She quickly cut off the rear legs of the rabbit. Passing one to Regina, she kept the other for herself, giving the rest of the rabbit to Ruby.

The trio ate in relative silence, listening to the night and, of course, the wolf’s hurried crunching. It didn’t take Ruby long to finish her meal. She licked her chops, gazing longingly at Regina’s half eaten leg.

“Don’t you dare,” the grandmother warned Regina without looking at the girls. She continued to gnaw on the joint still attached to the rabbit’s femur. She knew Ruby was starving—they were all hungry.

With her ears back, Ruby gave a high pitched whine, crawling towards her grandmother on all fours. It was pathetic and overly dramatic.

“But _Granny_ ,” Regina whined, serving to vocalize her adoptive sister’s pleas. She chuckled as she nibbled again on her dinner. Her sister could always make her smile.

Smirking, Eugenia tossed her bone to the wolf. She pinned the brunette with a hard look. “Eat your meat and _then_ you can let Ruby have the marrow.” Standing up to take first watch, she pressed her lips together in a hard line as Regina gave her leg away. Sighing, she said, “You’re going to need to be careful, Regina.”

“I know,” the brunette responded, watching Ruby lick the bones.

“No one can know—.”

“You act like I…,” Regina snapped but trailed off, glaring at her grandmother. She broke eye contact and shook her head. “I _understand_ ,” she drawled in a low tone. Ever since she gave Eugenia that enchanted canteen, it was the same thing drilled into her head again and again. _Always keep the true extent of your talents secret. Only use your abilities when told. No one can know you can use your abilities with the inhibitor activated._ Her eyes glazed over as she glowered at the flickering flames of the campfire. Absently, she reached around and touched the base of her neck where the accursed implant was embedded.

Sighing, Eugenia met Ruby’s gaze and gruffly apologized, “I don’t mean to nag.” And of course, she didn’t. It was simply her nature to be protective.

The wolf huffed and rested her head on her front paws. Her eyes shifted between the two women as her ears drooped.

“I promise you, I’ll be careful, Granny,” the brunette relented in an irritated tone. Like with anything, there was a price. The cost of using her abilities against the inhibitor was always relative to the size of the task. Smaller things were bearable while larger ones were not. Over the years, she’d learned to manage the discomfort. She looked up, meeting her grandmother’s gaze. “But I won’t let anything happen to you or Ruby, either.”

Eugenia gave a watery smile. She swallowed. Her voice was rough as she affectionately muttered, “Stubborn girl.”

~SQ~

It was almost dawn when Emma returned to the werewolf camp with backup. She crept towards the ledge to peer down at the two women and wolf. They appeared to be sleeping. Smirking, she looked across the ravine at Neal and gave a thumb’s up. This little snag was the morale boost they desperately needed.

Pursing his lips, the scruffy man in dusty, light grey leathers slowly nodded and backed away from the edge. He didn’t like this one bit, not for only a crossbow, some boots, leathers and a backpack. Besides, going up against werewolves was usually more trouble than it was worth, but they were desperate. He would, however, admit that the terrain put the odds of a successful grab in their favor but only because they managed to get into position without detection. He was mildly curious how the trio had achieved their escape from Holrustin. After all, if there was a way to get out undetected, it followed that there was a way to get in unobserved, as well.

Tucked down in the gorge, the makeshift camp was strategically situated under an outcropping of eroded rock, past the first large bend from the forest’s steep entrance. All in all, it was only a few yards from the mouth of the ravine but offered a suitably camouflaged spot to stop and rest. It would have been easy to miss them if Emma hadn’t followed them to that point. However, with Lance and Anton coming in towards the three from either direction down in the ravine’s basin, August nestled in some shrubs and protruding tree roots above with a stun rifle, Neal with his immobilizing net and Emma’s shock darts raining from overhead, the poor fools wouldn’t know what hit them. It could work.

He checked his watch and raised his fisted hand, knowing August could see him through the scope on the rifle. That was the signal to send in Lance. When the talking started, Anton would drop into position a little further down the gully.

Catching Neal’s raised fist, August whispered, “You’re a go.” He checked the charge on his stun rifle for the fifth time. There were two, maybe three, good shots left in the battery pack. Readjusting his grip, he settled in, watching the scene unfold through the scope.

Stepping out from behind a large, scraggly bush by August’s position, Lance casually slid down the rest of steep slope of loose gravel and dirt leading into the base of the gorge. He didn’t try to mask his approach as he walked around the bend towards the camp. _This is going to be a piece of cake_ , he thought before calling out, “Hello, there!” He smirked as his voice echoed. In a few moments, Anton would rappel down to take position from the other direction, blocking the wolves’ escape.

Eugenia snapped awake, snatching up and raising her crossbow. “What do you want?” she demanded, taking aim at the stranger. She silently cursed herself for falling asleep without waking Ruby, but she and Regina had been sleeping so soundly. How did this guy even sneak up on them? The dead would’ve heard his stomping.

“Whoa,” Lance said his voice loud and clear. As a tall, broad shouldered black man, he cut a rather intimidating figure in his dark brown leathers. Still walking forward, he raised his hands and added, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s close enough,” Eugenia said over the wolf’s snarl. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Regina slipping on the backpack. Her eyes narrowed when the man didn’t stop. And from her granddaughter’s small moan of dismay, she assumed there was another person approaching from behind, boxing them in. A jolly greeting came from the newcomer and she smirked at Ruby’s louder and lengthier growl.

“How about you put that crossbow down and toss us the bag,” Lance politely suggested. He stopped ten feet from the silver-haired werewolf. His gaze quickly scanned the four-legged wolf and the brunette. Anton and the wolf were busy having a staring contest, but the brunette was looking skyward and standing very, very still. He grinned predatorily, attributing her reaction to fear. “No one needs to get hurt.”

“How about you piss off?” Eugenia countered. She would allow him one more step before she pulled the trigger. The other guy must have moved forward because she heard Ruby snarl and snap her teeth. “The wolf doesn’t take to kindly to uninvited guests.”

Lance leered and said, “Neither do we.” Lunging forward, he feigned right but went left, missing the fired bolt by mere centimeters. This old lady had some skills.

Roaring as he jumped forward, Anton spread his arms wide in a sweeping arc, using the movement to covertly slip a lightweight, metal baton from a back-holster. If this was a regular wolf or a mere dog, the tactic may have forced the animal back a few steps. But instead, the beast lowered, waiting for an opportunity to strike. He pressed a small button on the side of the baton, making it telescope to quarter staff length. Expertly, he twirled the staff, hoping to immediate the wolf. It didn’t work.

Easily smacking the crossbow out of Eugenia’s hands, Lance coiled back for a punch. The plan was for him and Anton to corral the three together. Neal would toss down the immobilizing net, subduing them. Then, they would take the escapees’ gear and leave. His eyes widened in utter shock when his fist was firmly caught in mid strike. He grimaced in pain as his hand was squeezed.

“I don’t need a crossbow to deal with the likes of you!” Eugenia snarled. She growled as she landed a solid hit in Lance’s gut. She glanced briefly at her weapon, now discarded in the dirt, and grumbled, “I’d just polished it, too.”

Tired of watching the large man play with his stick, Ruby leapt towards him. She narrowly missed a blow to the head but was unprepared for his surprising physical strength. His staff caught her in the chest and propelled her backwards into the ravine’s wall.

Regina sensed two others above them on either side of the gorge and another towards the forest, but her sister’s yelp drew her attention back to the fight. Her eyes glanced over to her grandmother as she fought the tall, black man. She whined softly and looked over at Ruby, still toying with the other one. A concussive blast would end this quickly but quite likely leave her incapacitated. Since it was too risky, she waited for one of the other three to make a move.

The big guy was really starting irritate Ruby. She ran around him, feigning left then right before ricocheting off the ravine wall. All four paws connected with his round body, knocking him to the ground. As cloud of dust puffed out around them, she promptly wrapped her jowls around his neck and growled.

“Oh, fuck me,” Anton whispered, wincing at the nearly piercing pressure of sharp teeth. There was nothing he could do but hope he didn’t soil his pants.

Lance managed to land a series of blows, forcing the older woman to stumble backwards a few feet. He almost had her in position!

“You hit like a fairy, sweet thing,” the grandmother taunted, wiping blood off her lip with the back of her leather clad hand. She reveled in physical challenge. Even though this young man was quite skilled, she was better, and she knew it.

Ignoring the insult, Lance glanced over the silver-haired woman’s shoulder and watched as the wolf took Anton by the throat. His eyes widened as he shouted, “ _Now_!” It was too soon, but the net would catch the wolf, the brunette and, unfortunately, Anton, too. Maybe the decision would save his comrade’s life, leaving them with only one to subdue.

Hearing the order, Neal stood, swinging the immobilizing net out and over the ravine. He smiled in triumph as his aim was true—except, the mesh didn’t fall as planned. His brow furrowed as he stared at the hovering net. When his eyes focused through the weave and locked with the brunette’s below, he realized a very critical error in their plan. “Oh, shit!” he cursed, but by then, it was too late. The immobilizing net reversed its original direction and wrapped around him, rendering him unconscious as he fell to the ground.

“No freaking way!” Emma muttered, blinking repeatedly, not understanding what she had just witnessed until she heard the distinctive sound of August’s stun rifle firing. Clamoring to look over the ledge on her belly, she counted two shots as she assessed their situation. Lance was still struggling with the silver-haired werewolf and Anton was pinned to the ground with his neck firmly in the beast’s jowls. Why hadn’t it killed him already?

She pulled out two stun darts, checking their charges. Hopefully, taking out the wolf would distract the brunette long enough for her to throw another and take down the apparent medeis. However, she never got the opportunity. Emma quickly found herself rising high above the ravine. Panicking, she flailed as she was suspended upside down in midair. And as all of her darts dropped to the hard ground, she cried out “August, fucking _do_ something!”

“Fuck!” August hissed, tossing his now useless rifle to the ground. He rummaged through his pack, looking for his JHAC gear. Finding it, he quickly engaged the remote and scanned the area for vulnerable targets. It immediately indicated none were available. “What the…,” he trailed off, setting it to search again. His eyes widened as his mouth fell open in disbelief. “She’s clean,” he muttered.

“God damn it, August!” Lance shouted. He was sweating profusely. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go down. “Do something!” He blocked a blow only to be stunned by a kick.

“The medeis is clean!” the tech cried from his hiding spot. He quickly repacked his bag and debated on what to do next. Neither of his options were very appealing: run or get his ass handed to him. Snatching up the rifle, his hand twisted around the barrel, ready to use it as a club. “Shit, shit, shit,” he chanted.

Eugenia flashed an unsettling grin. Twisting her body, she took advantage of the black man’s disorientation and locked him in a sleeper hold. Despite his determined resistance, she rendered him unconscious in under a minute. She unceremoniously dropped him to the ground and sweetly called out, “Yes, come on out, August!” Turning to her granddaughter, she instructed, “I think you can lower the scrawny blonde, now.”

Regina nodded gratefully as sweat beaded on her brow, and she lowered the woman in a controlled descent. She bent over and picked up one of the fallen stun darts.

“Um, aren’t you going to put me _all_ the way down?” Emma nervously asked. She was just a few feet from the ground but still upside down.

“No,” the brunette replied flatly, studying the dart. She turned partially to watch August’s approach but kept the squirming, cursing-under-her-breath blonde in her peripheral vision.

Brushing the dust and dirt off her leathers, Eugenia eyed the rather average looking man in slightly tattered, murky brown leathers who was, she assumed, named August. “Are you the tech for this piss poor operation?” she barked in a tone full of irritation. At his brief nod, she asked, “Can you deactivate inhibitors?” There wasn’t any sense in beating around the bush. They knew about Regina, now.

Nervously, August glanced at Emma and Anton. “I don’t have the gear to do it in the field,” he stammered. His eyes fell on the brunette. _Medeia can’t use their abilities while inhibited_ , he reassured himself. “But, yeah, I can mod most implants.”

“How much?” Regina interjected not looking up from her examination of the dart. Everything came with a price, even living.

Cocking an eyebrow, the grandmother chuckled as she glanced around at the tech’s subdued companions. “I assume it’ll be a _good_ deal.”

“Fuck you, you old hag!” Emma cursed, flailing her limbs about and trying to gain purchase on something. She settled for glaring at the brunette. “And fuck you, too, you goddamned medeis!”

The wolf growled loudly. Her amber eyes glowered at the blonde as she applied a bit more pressure to her victim’s throat.

“Uh, Emma, try _not_ to antagonize them,” Anton hissed. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt more saliva cover his neck.

“Yeah, sure,” August rasped, ignoring his comrades’ outbursts. He swallowed in fear, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t negotiate. Hell, he didn’t even trade. That was left to his father, Marco. Wincing, he could see his father’s fury when they limped back into camp empty handed and with more broken gear. “Maybe we can make a deal?” he suggested nervously. Weren’t both groups in a tight spot?

Narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, Eugenia asked, “What type of _deal_?”

“Help us with a job,” the tech managed to say after a moment. Things had been bad lately; they hadn’t had a successful score in weeks. They’d been planning the warehouse heist for over a month, but given the current state of their gear, they couldn’t hit it without first replenishing supplies. Suitable targets had been few and far between lately. “There’s a warehouse complex ten klicks west from here—,” he started.

“You want to steal from the shipping yard,” Regina interrupted disdainfully, generally unimpressed with the scheme. She’d studied enough maps to memorize the region. Also, she was all too aware that Leopold owned the shipping yards. Scowling at the malfunctioning dart, she pondered why these thieves would try to attack werewolves while using subpar equipment. How did they expect to bypass security at the yard?

“August, _shut up_ ,” Emma hissed, trying in vain to right herself again. Glaring at the brunette, she scowled at the raised eyebrow, muttering, “No one’s dumb enough to hit the docks.” But sometimes people were desperate enough to do it—not that she would ever admit to it.

Sighing, Eugenia shook her head. “It’s too risky.” She turned her back on the tech and started walking away. They needed to put some distance between them and these morons. They were running on borrowed time because one of these idiots would report them. It might take a few days, but it was sure to happen.

“Wait!” August rushed forward, desperation coloring his voice, though he tried to hide it. “We can pull it off, especially with a clean medeis.” His gaze fell on the brunette; she was an undiscovered treasure to him. _Somehow she slipped through the screenings_ , he knew, since DNA scans were taken every four years from birth. Somehow, this woman had fallen through the cracks. He stopped dead in his tracks when the silver-haired woman whipped around to face him.

Eugenia growled low and long, forcing the tech to take a step back.

August’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to say, “You won’t find another tech capable of removing your inhibitors for hundreds of miles.” It wasn’t necessarily true, but he hoped it was convincing.

The wolf growled loudly, catching the lie. She worked her jaw ever so gently, eliciting a weak whimper from Anton.

“Ruby thinks you’re lying,” Regina translated, opening the dart’s casing to reveal the device was empty. She sighed as she snapped it closed again.

“Ruby, let the man go,” ordered Eugenia. Turning to her other granddaughter, she said, “Put the blonde down. We’re leaving.” She started moving down the ravine, deeper into the Iron Wastes. They’d make their own way, just like they’d planned. The natural iron would shield them from detection indefinitely—certainly long enough to figure out something permanent. “Let’s go, girls.”

With a slow wag of her tail, the wolf gently extracted herself, taking care not to break skin. Hacking several times, she tried to get the taste of sweat and dust out of her mouth. She vigorously worked her tongue around her chops as she waited for Regina to join them, her ears rotating forward.

Lowering the blonde to the ground, the brunette handed over the stun dart.

“Um, thanks,” Emma said weakly, hesitantly accepting the device. Her eyes avidly searched the brunette, trying to size her up. However, her attention was drawn towards the wolf. She swallowed, noting the beast’s stiff posture.

“You could’ve easily subdued us with your darts,” Regina commented, knowing full well the one she’d examined was useless. She searched the blonde’s face. “Why didn’t you?” If it had been their intention to kill them, the thieves didn’t do a very good job of trying.

Still sitting up, Anton lightly touched his neck. His fingertip came back covered in saliva. Pulling out a ragged bandana from his back pocket, he whispered, “Gross.” Frowning as he stared at Ruby, he mumbled, “I bet you drooled all over me on purpose.”

The wolf merely regarded him with a tilted head before letting her tongue hang out to the side. However, when she turned her amber eyes back to the blonde, her posture became stiff again, and she took a telling step towards her sister.

After watching the exchange, Emma sighed and shrugged her shoulders. She explained, “Only three are charged.” It was hard finding replacement components, lately—not to mention a functioning charger.

“Of all the idiotic…,” Eugenia tittered darkly, her voice reverberating in the ravine. She stopped and ran a gloved hand down her weathered face. Facing the blonde, she said, “You lot went up against three unknowns with shitty equipment.” She rolled her eyes at the blonde’s flat expression. “We’re done here.”

Regina watched as Ruby sighed and obediently trotted after their grandmother. She turned back to the tech and asked, “Can you really deactivate our inhibitors?”

Perking up, August glanced at Emma before cheerfully answering, “Yeah! Most likely, anyway. It depends, really….” Clearing his throat, he rambled a bit more, “And if I can’t, I’m sure the tools I’d need can be found in that warehouse.” He grinned, looking between everyone who was conscious. When his gaze landed on Anton, however, he winced at the purple bruises forming across his neck.

“ _Regina_ ,” Eugenia warned, not stopping. The sun was up, now, which meant they needed to get moving. They needed breakfast.

“Granny,” the brunette flatly countered, unmoving from her spot. Her tone caused her sister to stop and face her. As her gaze met her sister’s, she tilted her head, and they shared a long look. Neither knew how long it would be before they’d find another semi-capable tech, especially one so desperate.

Grabbing August’s arm, Emma yanked the tech toward her and hissed, “Are you fucking crazy? We don’t know these people.” She’d seen what happened when people came to collect wayward property. “They’re runners.”

“They just want their inhibitors deactivated,” the tech rationalized with an even voice. He pouted slightly. It was only a few years ago that he had helped his father disable the blonde’s inhibitor, as well as that of her little brother.

When she realized neither granddaughter was following her, Eugenia stopped but didn’t turn around. All of this was just too damned risky. She unhooked her canteen and took a long drink to buy herself some time to think. Maybe Regina could enchant another one to pour endless whiskey.

Ruby looked deliberately between her grandmother and her sister. Her tail started a slow wag as she trotted back to her sister. Turning, she barked, further signifying her choice. She was going to trust her sister. Their grandmother may know how to survive but Regina knew how to read people.

“Alright, quiet down,” Eugenia reprimanded, walking back to Anton. She offered him a hand and roughly helped him onto his feet. Looking him square in the eyes, she said, “No funny business, or next time Ruby _will_ rip your throat out.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Anton stammered. He quickly moved to retrieve his quarter staff. Pressing the button, it retracted, and he slipped the baton back into its holster. He looked to Emma and August.

Pursing her lips, Emma let go of August with a slight shove and shook her head. “Neal isn’t going to like this.”

~SQ~

With his footfalls muffled by a plush, hand-woven, imported rug, Jefferson, Rupert Gold’s personal assistant, walked briskly down the long and richly decorated hall. One wall was comprised of dark wood adorned with priceless antiques, famous paintings and expensive light fixtures, while the other wall was seamless glass, providing a breathtaking view of the city—a city Gold owned in all but name. Without conscious thought, Jefferson’s gaze drifted to his right to peer through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He searched the glinting cityscape in dawning light and was reminded of how small everything appeared from up high. There were worse fates than working for the most influential man in Holrustin. He cleared his throat and absently fiddled with the computer tablet in his hands as he neared his destination at the end of the hall, the private quarters of his employer.

Adjusting the various parts of his three-piece suit, he paused for a moment before the large, elegant double doors of wood and metal that would lead him into Gold’s inner sanctum. He, again, wished this latest emergency could have been put off until later—preferably until his boss wasn’t in _her_ company, but alas, he wasn’t that lucky. What Gold saw in Cora Mills was beyond him.

Opening the door, Jefferson purposefully entered the expansive sitting room and closed the door behind him. When he turned around, he frowned at finding neither party present. He silently cursed and purposely strode towards the bedroom. With his hand poised to knock, he hesitated. Was this truly that important? He grimaced as he heard the soft, grating laughter of Gold’s favored courtesan.

Jefferson knocked with more boldness than he felt and waited for permission to enter. Something in his subconscious chose that instant to remind him that no one ever left Rupert Gold’s employ. A moment passed before he heard the muffled call to enter from his boss. Taking one last deep breath, he opened the bedroom door and immediately squinted in the bright sunlight that filled the room.

“Good morning, Jefferson,” Cora demurely greeted from the center of the large bed. She primly adjusted the deep red sheet covering her body. Secretly, she was irritated that this whelp of a man continued to resist her charms. None of her other girls had been successful, either. Maybe it was time to deploy one of her male courtesans. She entertained herself by caressing her nails across Rupert’s bare chest.

“Madam Mills,” Jefferson returned as neutrally as possible. Approaching the bed, he ignored the rumpled bedclothes and the scheming woman in them. “Forgive the interruption, Mr. Gold,” he said, quickly entering a passcode into his tablet and offering the device to his boss. “Several assets have failed to report for work this morning.”

Taking the device, Gold narrowed his eyes at his assistant. “Interesting,” he blandly commented. As he idly re-familiarized himself with the assets’ dossiers, he said, “I take it those in question haven’t merely been detained by the police.” It wasn’t a terribly uncommon occurrence. Most of the city’s police force knew to avoid mishandling _his_ property specifically. However, there had been a few unfortunate incidents involving rookies and some of Cora’s neophytes.

“No, Mr. Gold, I contacted Captain Glass prior to disturbing you. No assets matching their descriptions have been collected thus far.” Jefferson silently released the breath he was holding. This wasn’t going to end well. “My initial investigation indicated that no one remembers seeing either of the assets after the evening meal in the kennels. And, as you may have already noticed, none of the assets are cleared to leave the compound.” He took a long breath before adding, “Also, security doesn’t report anyone entering or leaving the kennels until this morning’s shift change, Sir.”

That caught Rupert’s attention. He sat up and pushed away Cora’s wandering hand. “Is that so?” he sneered, intently rescanning the missing assets’ dossiers. 15-196.97-W-97 was scheduled to debut in the weekend’s Arena games. 15-196.97-W-156 was slated for the breeding program. He scowled upon recognizing 15-196.97-H-472-00L.

“What a pity,” Cora cooed, nestling against Rupert’s shoulder. “Isn’t that your diamond in the rough? Gifted with languages or some nonsense?” The sale of that particular asset to Leopold or Midas was going to earn her quite the sizable commission. After all, she had orchestrated the entire bidding war between the two men.

“Yes, it would appear so,” Gold drawled, only half listening. Sighing with irritation, he looked up at his assistant. “Check with Glass again. It’s not unheard of for him to screw things up.” He had lost two perfectly good escorts to a squad of overly ambitious trainees thanks to the incompetent captain.

“Yes, Sir.” Jefferson nodded as his hands clenched and unclenched behind his back.

Passing the tablet back, Rupert pursed his lips before instructing, “Be efficient with your investigations, Jefferson.” He paused and added, “And keep this _contained_.” The last thing he needed was the rumor of three assets escaping from his compound. Such things happened to other people, not him.

“Of course, Sir,” the assistant said, taking the tablet. He bowed his head slightly before turning on his heel and making a hasty exit. His entire day had been shot to hell, and he’d be scrambling to catch up on his other work well into the night. Someone was going to pay.

Hearing the soft click of the bedroom doors closing, Cora placed a light kiss on Gold’s cheek before getting out of the bed. She scooped up her silk robe draped over a nearby chair. Tying the sash, she commented, “You’re authorizing an awful lot of effort for two wolves and a mere human.”

Having followed his mistress out of bed, Rupert wrapped his arms around Cora, linking their hands over her abdomen. “You started this mess,” he whispered, kissing her neck. “Even if Jefferson places a bounty on them, the revenue they will bring in should be quite substantial.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” she pressed herself back against him. Her thumb stroked his hand. “My girl with Midas informed me that he’s been shopping for other linguists and hasn’t been impressed.” She hummed as Gold nibbled on her. “He wants _your_ kennel girl.”

Rupert felt Cora’s gift surge through him and didn’t resist its pull. “For the right price,” he murmured, drawing the woman back towards the bed, “he can purchase any asset he desires.” He spun her around and buried his hands in her long auburn hair. Kissing her fiercely, he allowed himself to be wrapped up in his mistress’s cunning, seductive embrace. He broke the kiss and smirked at her moan. “You’ve done well,” he said softly, tenderly touching her jaw. “I believe you’ve earned a reward.” Smiling roguishly, he pressed her onto the bed, following to hover above her.

“I aim to please, Rupert,” Cora purred, moving her body just so to entice him further. “There’s more,” she whispered after a breathy moan. “Leopold doubled his standing offer.”

Chuckling, Gold continued his ministrations. “How did you manage that?” he asked, only partially caring. He had other things on his mind.

“I may have hinted that you don’t condone certain _depravities_ in your house,” she smiled wickedly, dragging her nails enticingly down Rupert’s back.

“You evil woman.” Gold leered down at Cora before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

~SQ~

A bright yellow sun rose into a cloudless sky. By midday, the temperature would make wearing protective leathers highly uncomfortable, despite the breeze and shade from the surrounding trees—mostly because their canteens were woefully empty. Fortunately, they only had to travel an half klick east of the ravine to reach home.

Neal led the haggard group through the gradually thinning forest towards their current camp. He took pleasure in sound of crunching dead leaves and branches under his worn boots. When the scruffy man had been woken up, he hadn’t been too keen to learn about August’s arrangement with the runners. “I don’t like it,” he grumbled quietly, fully aware of a werewolf’s superior hearing.

“They _can_ hear you,” Anton slowly muttered from his position behind Emma and August, sweating from the heat and exertion. He glanced over his shoulder at the wolf and two women lagging behind them by a good five meters. Smiling nervously, he quickly faced forward when the wolf licked its chops. He barely managed to avoid tripping over a raised tree root.

“It doesn’t matter,” the scruffy man snapped, beyond mad. “This whole thing has been nothing but a waste of time.” And to top it off, the immobilization net was practically drained. It would take him days to recharge it with the hand crank.

Looking down at the ground and keeping pace with August beside her, Emma gritted her teeth, knowing Neal was going to complain regardless if the mission was successful or not. _Lazy bastard_ , she mentally cursed. _Heaven forbid he actually does something._ She usually avoided him after a failed mission, but her little brother wasn’t always so lucky. And she did feel guilty about that. It also didn’t help that Lance and Neal were sometimes a little too rough with Henry. All in the name of toughening him up, they would say with laughter.

“Shut your trap,” Lance snarled from Neal’s right flank. Absently, he reached up and rubbed his sore jaw. “Grandma can hit,” he admitted with a touch of pride. “She and that mutt will be handy in a brawl.” He’d been complaining about the lack of muscle for months. “Unlike you,” he added with a snicker, roughly shoving the scruffy man’s shoulder.

“You guys need to knock it off,” August hissed, casually glancing behind them. Looking at Emma, he continued, “We need them in order to hit that warehouse.” He took a long breath as he faced forward again. “Who knows, maybe we can convince them to join up with us permanently.”

“The flea-bitten werewolves I can handle,” Lance sneered, now walking in line with Neal in the lead. He could almost admire the physical prowess of the werewolves. “But medeia are nothing but trouble—especially ones who aren’t controlled.” He’d personally witnessed their destructive greed for power time and time again. Twisting, he pinned the tech with a hard glare. “They’re vipers and should be put down.”

“You know,” Anton interjected, clearly puzzled, “I still don’t get it. You’re okay—and I use that term loosely—with people who turn into fucking wolves, and you tolerate people with implants that augment their natural capabilities. But you condemn all medeia to a bloody, gruesome death.” He probably would never fathom his friend’s rage. Of course, he also understood the necessity of change. The balance of power was woefully skewed, but didn’t medeia already pay a hefty price? Looking behind him, he gave the brunette a sad smile. Werewolves may be treated as second-class citizens, but medeia were only regarded as tools.

“It’s all about checks-and-balances, Anton,” Lance answered dryly, strutting onward. “Medeia defy natural law. Nobody should fucking throw fireballs out of their hands or blow ice from their lips or shit acid out of their ass. That’s why some cock-sucker invented inhibitors, and the government forced everybody to have one.” His completely normal, little sister had died from the botched installation of her inhibitor. As far as he was concerned, they only needed inhibitors because of the medeia. Get rid of the medeia, and the need for the inhibitors would disappear.

“Speaking of inhibitors,” August said, purposefully derailing the impending rant, “I’m positive medeia can’t use their abilities if their inhibitors are, you know, active.” It was common knowledge. He briefly glanced over his shoulder again, eyeing the three. The brunette had displayed some impressive telekinetic abilities for someone without any augmenting implants. It should have landed her in the military or the city’s police force, at the very least. But instead, she was on the run with two werewolves.

Sighing, Neal suggested in a bored tone, “Maybe it’s because they’re out of range from a tracking tower.” He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t really care. He was wrestling with the impulse to punch the tech. The last thing they needed to do was take in three runners.

Shaking his head, August explained, “No, the inhibitor’s default is to restrict all capabilities, both genetic and implant, when out of range. I’m pretty sure that’s why the wolf hasn’t shifted.” He bit his lip, excited by the prospect of running scans on the brunette and figuring out how she overrode the inhibitor. “A medeis who can’t be JHACed would be priceless,” he whispered excitedly. He had so many questions.

“Mark my words, she’ll be nothing but trouble,” Lance said with a hard scowl. He shared a knowing look with Neal. One way or another, they were going to reap a profit from this venture.

Frowning, Emma didn’t like the glances Neal and Lance were sharing or their shit-eating grins. She looked over her shoulder and observed as the brunette had paused to offer the wolf a drink of water. Not realizing she’d stopped walking, she looked up when Anton put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It’ll work out,” the big man whispered with a warm smile.

Nodding, she resumed walking besides Anton. _Where’d they get water from?_ she pondered.

~SQ~

“This is a bad idea,” Eugenia muttered, crossing her arms as she waited on her granddaughters. She had caught bits of the conversation amongst the thieves. Sighing, she took the canteen from Regina when Ruby was finished drinking.

“Perhaps,” Regina agreed, affectionately petting the wolf’s head as they resumed following the group. “But the potential benefits outweigh the risk.” The information she had learnt during the bidding war between Leopold and Midas could still prove useful as she had become quite familiar with each man’s holdings.

“I don’t doubt that, Girl,” her grandmother admitted reluctantly. Her expression turned dour as she reminded them, “But we need to keep our wits about us.” She took a long swig of water.

Ruby huffed and gave a few soft, rolling growls.

“I agree,” the brunette said, absently rubbing her left temple. But she smiled at her sister’s sass.

“Headache?” Eugenia asked, ignoring Ruby’s snarky comment and passing the canteen.

“A minor one,” Regina freely admitted before taking a long drink. The cold water tasted good. Giving the container back, she glowered at the dirty look Neal directed at them over his shoulder. “Neal and Lance are going to be a problem.” Hopefully, the others of their group would prove more even tempered.

“More than likely,” the grandmother tiredly agreed after another long drink. All men were usually a problem. She clipped the canteen back onto her belt. “They’ll probably try to get in your pants.” _Poor bastards_ , she thought amusedly.

Glancing around the woods, Eugenia could tell the area had once been a park a very, very long time ago—probably before she was even born. If she looked carefully, she should spy the crumbled remnants of benches and broken, bent fragments of fencing under layers of decaying leaves and dirt. The manicured paths had been reclaimed by nature, and anything of use had long ago been scavenged. Her gaze drifted back toward her granddaughters. Again, she told herself a life of abject hardship was better than whatever Gold had planned for them.

~SQ~

Still keeping their distance from the others, Eugenia, Ruby and Regina stood together under a shady oak tree as they studied the derelict building this band of thieves currently called home. It was mostly made of steel and concrete. But, while the back half was partially covered by a hill, a large portion of the rest was a shoddy patchwork of mismatched wood and reclaimed sheets of metal. They watched as several people exited the building via an obscured gap in the wall next to a tree. It almost appeared as if the tree was holding up the wall.

The wolf offered a rolling mix of whines and growls in protest. She shook her entire body, knowing this place was going to be invested with fleas, mites or worse. With soulful, sad eyes, she peered up her sister.

“That’s putting it mildly,” muttered the brunette, crossing her arms. She expected things to be tough in the Iron Wastes, but this was ridiculous. The entire building probably leaked when it rained. She frowned when a boy ran out of the building. “They have children?”

“They probably have to recruit young,” the grandmother sneered through a breathy chuckle. “He looks about thirteen,” she commented. Her eyes narrowed, observing the boy hugging the scrawny blonde. “She’s too young to be his mother.”

Observing an older man exiting, Regina casually remarked, “It appears you’ll have a contemporary.” She watched as the old man chastised the returning party. Her brow furrowed as the tech interrupted and pointed back at them. This sent the old man into an angry fit, spewing out curses in several different languages. She picked out the typical mix of Chinese, Russian, English and Spanish.

Ruby’s posture became stiff and rigid. She glanced between her grandmother and sister.

“I’ve no desire to coddle a frail man,” Eugenia hissed, crossing her arms as August and the old man approached them. Delicately sniffing the air, she whispered, “There are two others still inside.”

As he approached the two women and the wolf, Marco offered a rather reserved greeting. “My boy tells me you’re looking to have inhibitors removed in exchange for helping us liberate supplies from the shipping yard.”

The wolf tilted her head at the interesting choice of words.

Regina’s eyes cut over to the tech for a moment before answering, “That’s correct.” She immediately placed Marco’s accent. It was distinctive to a city far to the northeast of Holrustin, and it so happened that the two cities were bitter rivals. In the last decade alone, the two city-states had engaged in two armed conflicts, devastating the region between them. She found it interesting he would risk moving here, where his accent could get him killed.

“Good, good,” Marco nodded. The mere promise of help was enough for the old man. He immediately launched into a sort of recruiting spiel while easily ushering the three into an impromptu tour of their new home.

Following Marco, Regina thought the man was being foolish and far too trusting. These people didn’t know anything about them. However, it only further illustrated the group’s desperation. Whether or not that worked in their favor remained to be seen. She met Lance’s heated stare as she slipped inside the building.

Essentially, Marco was, for lack of a better word, their leader and specialized in tech fabrication. While he handled a vast majority of the bartering, most of his time was spent trying to repair gear. He also maintained various arrangements with other rogue groups and settlements scattered across the Iron Wastes. His son, August, who was also a tech, was an expert in modifications and had a reputation for quality work. In conjunction with Archie, the group’s only programmer, the trio earned quite a bit of currency and tradable goods. Neal classified himself as a professional scavenger with a knack for finding treasure in a sea of useless junk. He was also Marco’s apprentice but had no real talent for the trade. For muscle, the group relied heavily on Lance and Anton, neither man very skilled, otherwise. Lance had learned fighting tactics from a militia group he had run with when he was a teenager. But Anton used to fight in underground rings for his livelihood before meeting Emma and Henry. It also wasn’t a secret that Lance harbored a vendetta against all medeia, especially augmented ones. This naturally led to some tension between him and Emma, who possessed the unique passive ability to mask her presence—a sought after skill that normally would have landed her in the Holrustin military or police force. Henry, Emma’s little brother, didn’t have any skills but worked closely with Archie. However, he spent most of his time with the group’s here-to-fore newest member, Tink. Prior to joining six months ago, she had worked as a sweet thing over in Broken Bell, an outpost roughly a half day away. Since joining their little band, she just tried to keep everyone fed.

All in all, the brunette found everyone—aside from Neal, Lance and Emma—quite friendly, and thankfully, Anton harbored no ill will towards Ruby’s excessive drooling from earlier. As August examined the wolf’s inhibitor, everyone pretty much kept to themselves. Neal, Lance and Emma sat clustered around a table with maps while Anton and Tink toiled in the section dubbed the kitchen. Henry hovered behind the programmer. Regina spied him glancing nervously at her.

Sitting alone on a bench to the side of the designated workshop area, Regina ignored the teenager and quietly observed as August and Archie examined Ruby’s inhibitor. She thought the process and the different tools fascinating. Her agitated grandmother loomed in front of the wolf with her arms crossed. Although strange and unexpected, the group’s inclusive demeanor did nothing to waylay her grandmother’s irritation over her sister’s sole implant being worked on first at Regina’s stern insistence. Ruby had been stuck in wolf form for nearly four days by this point. The brunette knew her sister was itching to shift.

When August and Archie started talking about stuff he couldn’t hope to understand, the teenager slipped over to the brunette and casually sat down next to her on the wobbly bench. He bit his lip, remembering Emma’s scathing lecture about bugging people. Swallowing, he caught Eugenia’s eye as she glowered from her position next to the wolf. “Hi,” he said timidly.

“Hello,” Regina returned lightly, offering a soft smile to the boy before refocusing on August’s tools and Archie’s tablet screen.

“Are you all werewolves?” Henry asked softly, glancing over his shoulder. Emma didn’t like him interacting with strangers.

“I am not a wolf,” the brunette clarified. She was curious about the teenager’s apprehension about taking to her. “I’m a medeis,” she supplied in a low whisper. Catching her grandmother’s disapproving glare, she narrowed her eyes and asked, “Will you keep my secret?”

Smiling, Henry easily agreed, “Yeah!” No one had asked him to keep a secret before. Neal and Lance usually threatened him to keep his mouth shut. The others never shared anything.

“Thank you,” Regina said, meeting the boy’s eager gaze.

“You’re welcome,” the teenager replied. Not wanting to wear out his welcome, he stayed quiet and watched August and Archie work.

“This might sting a little,” August said as he adjusted his grip on a small sonic tool with an ultra-fine tip. He spread Ruby’s fur wide with his other hand, leaning forward. Slowly, the tip came into contact with the implant. A spark formed and zapped the tech. “Shit!” he cried, dropping the sonic spanner and sucking on his hurt finger.

Immediately whipping around, the wolf snarled and snapped at the two men. Her displeasure was clear as she narrowed her eyes at the tech.

Picking up the spanner, Archie calmly said in his raspy voice, “I suppose that was more than a sting.” He slowly leaned forward to check Ruby for any damage. “Your fur is singed, but the skin seems fine.” Pushing his glasses up his nose, he sighed. “However, I’m afraid August has vastly oversold our abilities.”

“ _Meaning_?” Eugenia demanded, uncrossing her arms. She had known this would happen.

“Meaning,” August sighed, looking at his burnt fingertip, “I can’t do anything with these tools.” He bent over and picked up his spanner, examining its tip. “I need something with a higher control setting.” Tools were his livelihood, and his were very outdated. He couldn’t even sell them.

Cutting in, Archie quickly added, “I can still deactivate your trackers.” He looked between the two women before looking Ruby in the eye. “They’re clearly new hardware, but they’re running old software.” He shrugged. “The manufacturer is probably waiting for the infrastructure to catch up.” It was a perpetual catch-twenty-two that always worked in his favor.

Huffing, Ruby turned around, allowing the programmer access to her implant again. Not being detected by the relay system was far better than avoiding towns for the rest of her life. Without the tracker, they could at least wander into what passed as civilization in the Iron Wastes. They just needed to avoid authorities.

Archie cleared his throat as he delicately connected a tiny sensor diode over the wolf’s inhibitor attached to his tablet computer. He quickly opened the necessary software with a few taps. “I won’t be able to change your IDs until I have new ones.” His brow furrowed upon noting the 196.97 in their tags. He swallowed, knowing what that number meant. These three runners belonged to Rupert Gold.

“How long will that take?” Eugenia asked gruffly, somewhat mollified that something was finally getting done.

Unhooking the diode, the programmer mulled over his response, knowing he had to be diplomatic. He stood and gestured for the grandmother to turn. “Depends on what my contact has available,” he answered, connecting the device.

Earlier, he had explained that simply swapping ID codes would immediately flag them in the tracking system and alert authorities when they were within range of a relay tower. So the new identifiers had to be taken from the sanctioned database of reserved numbers developed and maintained by the otherwise powerless central government of the continent’s twenty or so city-states. It was this necessity of a uniform classification management system for the inhibitors that kept each city from declaring its independence and eventually eliminating each other. Also, the new IDs had to match their existing traits enough to pass a level two scan. Sometimes this required direct intervention from database personnel, and that usually took time.

Archie made short work of deactivating the tracking function in Eugenia and Regina’s implants. He went on to explain he’d make the trip to Broken Bell tomorrow to talk with his contact.

“There’s no sense worrying about that until they can pay,” snarled Lance from the table. He’d been keeping one ear trained on programmer’s conversation.

Sighing, Archie stowed his equipment. “As I’ve said before, it could take _weeks_ for a suitable ID to become available.” Really, how many times did he have to explain this? It wasn’t that difficult of a concept. “I need to get things in motion as soon as possible.”

Regina rolled her eyes and wondered how these people even managed to survive. However, she was all too aware of their lack of tradable goods. Eugenia’s canteen might be worth enough to cover one of them, but other than that, they only had their leathers, which weren’t valuable enough to cover a second person—let alone a third. She casually walked over to the table and studied the tattered map, not bothering to sit down.

“It could also take them weeks to earn enough to pay for them,” countered Lance with a hard tone. His eyes locked onto the medeis. He pursed his lips, resisting the urge to snatch the map away from her prying eyes.

“You’re squabbling for nothing,” rumbled Marco as he ambled from the sleeping area towards the table. _So much for a nap_ , he thought. Sitting, he gestured at the warehouse on the map. “If this heist pays out, none of us will worry about payments for a long time.” He could work for leisure instead of obligation and finally get this roof fixed.

Turning to August, Regina asked with raised eyebrows, “Is this the warehouse job at the shipyard?” She frowned at his nod and looked back at the map. Vaguely, she was aware of Henry slipping around her and moving to stand by his sister.

Ruby trotted over to the table and next to her sister. Hopping up on her hind legs, she placed her front paws on the table top and peered at the large paper with all the strange squiggles.

“Down, bitch,” Lance snarled, violently kicking at the wolf’s hip with his booted heel.

With her fists curled, Eugenia rushed forward out of the workshop area. She’d been distracted by August fiddling with his tools and Archie tinkering on his tablet. Her momentum was halted at her granddaughter’s look.

Both men turned in unison at the commotion. They shared a distressed look. Lance had been an ass when Anton, Emma and Henry had joined up, as well.

Snarling at the black man, Ruby snapped at air. Her ears lay back and flat against her head as she bored a hateful glare at him. However, she immediately relaxed as Regina calmingly stroked her ruff. She twisted to gaze at her sister. Her ears and tail moved before she huffed, dropping down.

“Thank you,” the brunette said to the wolf softly with a faint smile. Idly, she continued to stroke her sister’s ruff as she resumed studying the plan for the much talked about heist. It wasn’t terribly difficult to decipher.

“That’s awesome,” Henry whispered from where he stood between his sister and Neal. He’d seen the entire silent conversation between the two women and the wolf.

Rolling his eyes, the scruffy man shushed the teenager as he roughly elbowed him. He glared at Emma before saying with pride, “As you can see, we have things under control.” They didn’t need them. They were just bodies to carry out more stuff.

Regina crossed her arms and scowled. “I see,” she needlessly replied.

Snorting, Eugenia sat down on a barrel off to the side of the long table. Unwilling to stop the grin from spreading across her face, she knew her observant granddaughter was aware of something this worthless bunch obviously wasn’t.

“How reliable is your intel?” the brunette asked, remembering her briefings about Leopold’s holdings. She’d already spotted several flaws in their plan. Several guard postings and the locations of technological goods were all wrong.

“Neal and I cased that place for a fucking _week_ ,” Emma growled, glowering across the table at Regina. It was bad enough eating MREs but they had run out of toilet paper by the fourth day. To top it all off, she had to deal with Neal’s lame attempts at rekindling their relationship, at least the sexual aspect of it. “It’s accurate.”

Placing a hand on the scrawny blonde’s shoulder, Neal interjected, “Yeah, we were pretty thorough.” He frowned when Emma roughly shrugged off his hand.

Locking eyes with Marco, Regina calmly stated, “Your intel will get you captured.”

“Fuck you!” the scrawny blonde yelled, jumping up from her seat. She hurried down the length of the table to take a swing at the bitch medeis, but Anton gently stopped her at the halfway point, gripping her elbow. Irritated with him, she tossed her hands up in the air and stomped off to the kitchen. It wasn’t like she couldn’t hear everything, anyway. There was no privacy in this shit hole, but it was the best of their hideouts.

Anton and Ruby shared a long look before refocusing on the conversation.

“That’s good intel,” Neal said in defense, pointing at the map.

Regina narrowed her eyes and slowly said, “Maybe a month ago.” During her preemptory education prior to being sold, she had gleaned plenty of information regarding the shipyards. Some things to which, she was certain, a linguist shouldn’t have been privy. “However,” she drawled out, refocusing on Marco, “as of five days ago, it’s worthless.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Lance laughed, unbelieving. He looked between the werewolves and the medeis. Slaves didn’t know shit, only what they were told by their owners. He’d killed enough medeia begging for their lives to know.

Ignoring him and Ruby’s low growl, the brunette proposed an offer to Marco, “I’ll share the updated information, but it will require an amendment to our arrangement.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Neal muttered, shaking his head.

The old man looked over his shoulder and shared a silent look with his son and Archie. The two people he trusted most. “May I ask how you came about your . . . information?” He didn’t doubt the young woman’s words, but he needed some kind of proof to justify his decision.

Regina didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to acknowledge Gold was going to sell her or that it was during Leopold’s humiliating appraisals she gained this information. She certainly didn’t want to remember how the shipping tycoon would circle her, wiggling his fingertips as he itched to touch her or how his hot breath tickled the back of her neck. If she could have stayed working in the kennels with her family, the illusion would have been enough.

However, her pause gave Lance an opportunity to interrupt again. He laughed boisterously, slapping his knee. When he finally gained control of himself, he leered at the brunette as his eyes raked up and down her body. “You must be one hell of a lay.”

Anger boiled under Regina’s skin at the insinuation, although it was not far from the truth. Leopold had been clear in his desires. She fixed a heated glare upon the black man. Her gloved hands curled into tight fists. She scowled, wanting to pluck his eyes from their sockets as he continued his new-found appreciation.

“Enough teasing,” Marco scolded Lance upon hearing the fierce growls from the two werewolves. He glanced over his shoulder at Eugenia and sighed. Facing the brunette, he prompted, “What is your request?”

“You can’t be serious,” snapped Neal, leaning forward. His hands gripped the edge of the table. “They’re _runners_ , Marco. Emma and I watched the docks for a week!” He couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, _over_ a month ago,” the old man said, not looking at Neal. His voice sounded tired, but he was impressed with this young woman. She was focused and disciplined, two traits this ragtag group was severely lacking. And he was at the age where he could no longer afford risks.

Regina looked down at her sister before easily saying, “We keep what we carry.”

“Fuck that,” snarled Lance, glaring at Marco. His eyes drifted over the old man’s shoulder to Archie and August. “Those wolves can carry _twice_ the weight Anton and I can,” he asserted, jabbing his index finger onto the table top. Standing up, he pointed at the brunette and growled, “We kept our end of the bargain, and you’re going to do what you’re fucking told.” He took a menacing step towards Regina who didn’t even flinch.

Ruby instantly shifted, taking a defensive position beside her sister. She lowered her head with her teeth bared, front paws spread out wide.

“Sit the fuck down, pup,” Eugenia said, shoving the black man back down. This guy was really starting to get on her nerves. She glowered down at him, wanting him to try something.

“Actually,” Anton interrupted, lightly clearing his throat, “August promised to remove their inhibitors and mentioned that he may need tools from the warehouse.” He glanced at the tech and added, “So, we haven’t really done what we promised.”

“Cock sucker,” Lance muttered, glaring at the perpetually optimistic man. Tossing a hand up, he leaned on the table saying, “Fine, do whatever. I don’t give a fuck.” Not for the first time, he thought that joining this band of losers had been a mistake.

Marco quickly gained control of the situation after Lance’s outburst and easily agreed to Regina’s terms. It wasn’t as though they were actually losing anything. As he watched and listened to the brunette make changes to the map and, subsequently, their strategy, he couldn’t help but be impressed with her. He frowned when he realized that Neal and Emma’s surveillance was almost completely wrong. If they’d followed his scruffy apprentice’s plan, they’d all be in transit to a labor camp by daybreak. However, any further musings were cut short.

“Dinner,” Tink grunted, unceremoniously dropping a large, cast iron pot on the end of the table. Emma followed closely behind with bowls.

“Is it going to taste edible this time?” Lance jeered, standing up. He pushed his way past Regina, shoving her several steps back, and snatched a bowl from Emma.

_Bastard_ , the scrawny blonde thought. She scowled at the obnoxious black man before passing a bowl to Henry and taking one for herself.

“See all the fucks I give,” Tink snarled, slamming the ladle on the table. She stomped off to eat in the kitchen, having already stashed away a bowl for herself. Passing the brunette, she offered a soft smile but quickly disappeared into the cramped, dark galley. It was the only place she had any real peace.

Regina watched as these people served themselves and wandered off to various parts of the dilapidated building. Marco, August and Archie slipped back into their workshop. Emma, Henry and Anton sat around the empty fire pit by the entrance. Lance and Neal sat at the table, glaring at her. Sighing, she served her grandmother the weak onion broth with leeks and wild mushrooms. At least it didn’t smell bad. Filling another bowl, she stooped, slowly lowering a very full bowl for an eager Ruby.

The wolf’s tail waved vigorously as she sniffed. Watching the container with great intent, she affectionately licked her sister’s cheek.

Smiling, the brunette almost had the bowl down when suddenly she felt a sharp pain in the middle of her back. She was propelled forward, spilling Ruby’s diner all over herself and the ground.

“The bitch eats last,” Neal decreed lowering his boot. He laughed, sharing his amusement with a smirking Lance. However, he quickly found himself slammed against a support beam.

Eugenia growled fiercely, holding the scruffy man by his neck and squeezing his laryngeal prominence. Catching Lance’s movement in her peripheral, she stopped him with a deadly look. “If _anyone_ touches my granddaughters again, I’ll rip their throats out,” she snarled, pressing harder into Neal for good measure. Glaring over her shoulder, she locked eyes with Marco and asked, “Are we clear?”

“Yes,” the old man solemnly agreed. Maybe it was time to cull his herd. He glanced at his son. Things hadn’t worked out like he’d hoped when they decided to look for others to join them.

Releasing Neal, the grandmother turned and silently challenged the black man with narrowed eyes. She was done playing. If she wasn’t going to let Rupert Gold abuse her family, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let these worthless pieces of shit do it.

Holding up his hands in truce, Lance slowly moved around to grab Neal. He yanked the coughing man towards the sleeping nooks, cursing him under his breath. However, before he crossed the threshold of the hanging canvas, he flatly said, “The wolf sleeps outside. I don’t want fleas.” Then, he disappeared with Neal.

Sighing, Emma looked into her woefully empty bowl. She glanced at Anton’s rueful expression and noted how Henry shifted nervously in his seat. She felt bad as her brother’s eyes kept darting toward the sleeping area. Finally looking away, she watched as the old man and grandmother began an angry, hissing discussion in the workshop. It was clear after introductions that Marco wanted them to say. Biting her lip, she observed as the brunette proceeded to pick up the bits of mushroom and leek off the ground. The wolf shifted nervously and would pitifully whimper. Emma wasn’t sure what Regina was saying to her sister, but the wolf released one last huff before staying quiet.

Tink came out of the kitchen to collect the bowls and she scowled at the mess. “Those fucking assholes,” she muttered. When she met the brunette’s brown eyes, she offered a soft smile, immediately dropping down to help. It wasn’t that long ago she had been the new person. “ _This_ is how we get ants,” she fumed in a disgusted tone.

“I don’t doubt it,” Regina agreed. When her gaze caught the short blonde’s again, she returned the smile.

Emma pursed her lips as her pride kept her from offering to help. As much as she didn’t want to admit that the runners were probably right, she was pissed about how badly they’d fucked up casing the docks. She sighed. These people had saved their hides, and she was being a bitch. Lazily, she tapped her fingers against the empty container that doubled as her chair.

That’s when Henry jumped up and quickly collected Anton’s and Emma’s bowls. He trotted over to the workshop, collecting those, and quickly grabbed the two off the table. In a flash, he was in and out of the galley with a clean bowl. He carefully ladled out another bowl. Frowning, he weakly said, “There’s only enough for one.”

Dropping the last handful of ruined vegetables in the spilt bowl, the brunette took the not-quite-full container. “It’ll be plenty,” she said softly, taking a good swig of the lukewarm broth before placing the bowl down for Ruby.

Dropping her head, the wolf whined softly while gazing at her sister imploringly. She huffed as Regina merely shook her head and pointed at the bowl of soup. Hesitantly, the wolf started to eat, savoring every bite.

“Let it go, Emma,” Anton whispered at the scrawny blonde. He observed as the brunette carried the cast iron pot into the kitchen, followed by Henry and Tink. “We were lucky today.” Focusing on his hotheaded friend, he hoped she would heed his advice.

“I . . . we—,” Emma stuttered. She hung her head, shaking it. “I got sloppy,” she whispered. That damned shiny crossbow had been her downfall. Her eyes looked over to the pack and weapon by the door. She’d wanted it so badly for Henry. Even then, Neal and Lance would’ve eventually taken it away from him, too.

“Being hungry, tired and desperate will do that to you,” the normally jolly man said in a forlorn tone. He noted that Marco and Eugenia were now sitting at the table, engaged in more civil conversation. “I have a good feeling about Regina,” he admitted with an easy smile.

Startled, Emma asked, “Why?” She studied her friend carefully.

“Because two werewolves left their pack for her,” Anton answered. He didn’t know much about wolves or their culture, aside from the fact that they were often treated as second-class citizens—just a small step down from ordinary humans, and that was only slightly better than livestock. However, he did know that packs meant everything to a wolf. Packs were life. “She’s special,” he whispered as a clean Regina finally exited the galley, “because the pack they left behind was willing to play the price for her freedom.”

Unconvinced but respecting her friend’s advice, Emma decided to reserve judgment and adopt a more wait-and-see attitude with the runners. After all, dealing with Neal and Lance’s bullshit wasn’t going to be easy.

~SQ~

Exiting his bedroom during the early evening hours, Hook didn’t expect to see Jefferson, prim as ever, waiting for him. He pursed his lips and casually sauntered his naked form towards the small kitchenette. Grabbing a glass off a high shelf, he asked, “Would you like a drink, mate?” He had a feeling this encounter would require liquor, most did when Rupert Gold was involved. Putting the tumbler down on the counter, he reached for the ever present bottle of rum, using his teeth to pull out the cork.

“No, thank you,” Jefferson replied evenly, still gazing out the sliding glass door. Life outside the city always felt so temporary and insignificant. His eyes searched the urban landscape. Failing to spot anything of interest, he turned and scowled at the naked, one-handed man. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your hook,” he commented dryly.

Laughing, Hook raised his handless arm and, with a leer, said, “Some of the ladies like a bit of girth.” He paused and took a large swig of the alcohol. “I imagine a few men would, as well,” he added, refilling his glass, enjoying his taunting game.

Jefferson scowled but refused to rise to the bait. “Your bedroom activities aside, I have a job for you.” He didn’t like Killian “Hook” Jones, but the repulsive man got results. And getting the desired results meant staying in his boss’s favor.

“Aye, Smee said you left a message.” Killian rolled his eyes. Absently, he reached down and scratched the base of his cock. He frowned when Gold’s pansy errand boy turned away. Usually, the prat wasn’t above a little eye candy—not that he’d ever entertain fucking a man.

“I left _five_ ,” Jefferson ground out, focusing on the other man’s reflection in the glass. His gaze dropped to the limp, yet impressive, penis. Damn, he needed to get laid. “You should’ve contacted me immediately.” Opening his jacket, he pulled out a large, bulky envelope and held it up. “I have a job for you.” Sometimes he hated that most technology was prohibited outside the city walls.

“I’m on vacation, mate,” Hook sighed, pushing the cork back in the bottle. For the first time in a while, his finances were fine. He still had several weeks of binge drinking and whores before he needed to worry about putting food on the table.

“You can drop the haggling bullshit,” Jefferson said, turning to pin him with a hard look. “You’ll do this or _never_ receive another request from Gold.” He tossed the envelope on a coffee table covered with dirty glasses, trash and cigarette butts, among other things. The package landed with a heavy thud, causing a few bits to fall off the table.

Cocking an eyebrow, Killian went to pick up the envelope, knowing as well as everyone else that no one left Rupert Gold’s employ. His eyes quickly spotted the large wad of cash stuffed inside. “Payment up front,” he said in a teasing tone, hiding his unease. “That’s very trusting of you.”

“It’s a third upfront as per our _usual_ arrangement,” Jefferson explained, glad he finally had the thug’s full attention. “It's for the retrieval of two wolves and a human.” He paused and waited for Hook to meet his gaze. “All three are to be returned alive _and_ unsullied.”

“I thought Gold was above scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel,” Killian chuckled, holding up the info sheets compiled for 15-196.97-W-156 and 15-196.97-H-472-00L. He flashed the full sheet photo at the prim errand boy. “Selling virgins?” He looked at the head shot again. “How’d she keep that anyway?”

“Of course you _would_ link a woman’s sole value to her cunt,” scoffed Jefferson. Really, could the man be anymore vile? “Read the dossiers on the assets, Mr. Jones. It’ll make your job easier.” With purpose, he walked towards the exit.

“So, how soon do you want these lovelies?” Killian asked, looking over his shoulder.

“This takes precedence,” Jefferson supplied, opening the apartment door. He saw Hook’s henchmen sitting down the hall, playing cards. Turning partially to look back inside, he met a curious gaze. “Impress me, Mr. Jones, and there could be a _sizable_ bonus for a timely delivery.” Pulling the door shut, he gave the men down the hall a quick nod and disappeared. He had an overwhelming desire for a sonic shower.

Dropping his cards, Smee left the other men at the table and hurried down the hall, entering his boss’s apartment after a perfunctory knock. He nervously glanced around the small living area, looking for anything out of place. “Sir,” he said cautiously after a long moment.

“Mr. Smee,” Killian greeted, focusing on the info sheets across his lap. “It seems we have a bit of work.” His fingers idly traced the faces of the two younger women. “Go wake, Jacq. I have a job for her.”

“Yes, sir,” Smee said, stepping backwards. He quickly scurried out the door and down the flight of stairs.

Leaving the dossiers on the coffee table, Hook hastily pulled out the large wad of cash from the envelope. He waved it in front of his face and was visually enticed by the sheer amount. As his eyes dropped down to the head shots again, he pondered what was so special about these three women. He reminded himself that it was of no matter; if things went his way, he’d have his _Jolly Roger_ out of dry-docks by the end of the week.

~SQ~

Later during the cloudless, warm night, a gentle breeze barely rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees. Regina’s gaze drifted out into the moonlit night, resting her head against her sister’s warm side. She idly stroked the wolf’s front, right leg. Frowning at the dilapidated building roughly ten meters away from where they lay under an old, sprawling oak, she could just make out small amounts of light peeking through the cracks and fissures. She closed her eyes, listened to the sound of bugs and night birds, relaxing into the rhythmic breathing of her pillow.

Ruby tilted her head, observing the brunette. Stretching her head down, she gently snuffled into her sister’s hair.

“I’m fine,” Regina quietly reassured her fussing sister. Opening her eyes, she easily met Ruby’s concerned gaze. “It’s been a long day.”

The wolf looked up into the starry sky and back at the brunette. Her ears twitched, and she tilted her head before beginning the subtle movements of her lips and whiskers. Her tail flopped softly against the ground at her sister’s growing smile. Finally, Ruby released a soft, breathy woof.

Affectionately reaching to scratch the wolf’s ear, Regina said, “Does your hip hurt?”

Snorting, Ruby rolled her head side-to-side. She quickly flopped down her top half down and covered her eyes with her front paws. After releasing a few short, grumbling sighs, her ears drooped downward. She peeked at her sister from under a paw.

Regina chuckled softly and agreed with a sharp tone, “Yes, he’s aesthetically pleasing for a senseless brute.” She paused and sighed. “Of course, you would be attracted to _that_.”

Lifting her head, Ruby growled softly. She narrowed her eyes while releasing a series of rumbling huffs. When her sister looked away, she stretched her head forward and gently bumped the brunette with her nose.

“You know I won’t,” Regina muttered, glancing at the wolf. Biting her lower lip, she contemplated her attraction towards Tink, but she knew she could be confusing sympathy for interest. She was abruptly startled from her analysis by a low bark in her left ear.

They glared at each other.

Looking away again, Regina softly admitted, “She’s . . . caring, and it's nice meeting someone shorter than I am.” She linked her gloved hands over her stomach. Not wanting to get into fight over a fleeting sexual attraction, since that was where their conversation was heading, she cleared her throat and said, “Archie seems pleasant.” Her only experience with techs or programmers before today had been when the surly Dr. Tillman preformed maintenance or upgrades on their inhibitors.

Ruby snorted and huffed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. Of course her sister would change the subject and mention a balding ginger, of all people.

“He’s gentle,” the brunette supplied. It was strange meeting a man who saw her as a person, not a tool or a piece of property. Maybe that was why she’d reacted so strongly to Tink’s pseudo interest.

The wolf snorted and pushed at her sister with her front paws. She watched the brunette intently.

“Stop it,” Regina fussed, jabbing her elbow into Ruby’s stomach. “We can’t stay here, anyway,” she added with a touch of despair. It wasn’t safe, not for them and certainly not for these people. Her gaze drifted up to the sky, again.

Sensing her sister’s rising sadness and doubt, Ruby curled herself around the brunette. She silently offered as much comfort and support as she could in her wolf form. It was all she could do.

~SQ~

“I heard you _found_ dinner,” Emma teased Tink with a broad grin as she perched on the solitary stool in the cramped, haphazard galley area—only it wasn’t haphazard anymore. Blinking, she looked around and noticed a lot of stuff had been moved. It almost looked like a functional kitchen. “Looks like you’ve been busy while we were out,” she commented.

Carefully stirring the almost overflowing pot of venison stew, the petite blonde chuckled softly. “I only went along for the ride.” It was an experience she wasn’t going to forget anytime soon, either—especially when Regina ate that bloody chunk of ultra-fresh deer liver. The wolves she could accept such behaviors from, but the brunette was human. “Granny’s been busy today.” She smiled.

“That smells great!” bellowed Lance, slipping into the galley. He bent over the pot and inhaled deeply. “Where’d you get potatoes and onions?” When was the last time they had fresh vegetables at camp? They were lucky to trade for canned goods or that damned dehydrated crap.

Clearing her throat, Tink casually answered, “While Granny field dressed the deer, Regina and Ruby found them and some herbs growing wild.” She rolled her eyes at the black man’s hard scowl. “Come off it, Lance.” Putting the lid back on the Dutch oven, she added in a sing-song voice, “Of course, you don’t have to eat it.”

Pursing his lips, he looked between the pot and the petite blonde. “Where’s that medeis now?”

“Her name’s Regina, and Granny has her cleaning the deer hide out back,” Tink replied with a frown. Her nose wrinkled, and she shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. It was gross. She huffed when Lance bolted out of the kitchen. Probably to go spy on the evil medeis scraping flesh and fat off a fresh hide. Looking back at Emma, she snapped, “What?”

Cocking an eyebrow, the scrawny blonde smirked, “ _Granny_?”

“Shut up,” the petite blonde muttered. She crossed her arms, leaning back against the rickety prep counter. “It’s what Regina calls her,” she explained with a shrug. So what if she liked them?

Emma opened her mouth but quickly snapped it shut. She glanced around, listening. “Where’s Henry?” Usually, her brother hung out with August or Archie, but if Tink was cooking, he’d help her.

“Oh, he’s with his _new_ girlfriend,” the petite blonde tittered, clearly amused. But when Emma hopped off the stool, she waved her hands, halting the other blonde. “He’s fine.” Rolling her eyes, she mockingly stated, “He’s learning a marketable skill.” Damn, she’d heard those words enough to last her a lifetime. When she joined up with this ragtag group, that’s all she had heard from Lance for weeks, while Neal just hinted at her servicing him. She smirked darkly at the memory of the first and last time he had outright demanded a blowjob.

“Yeah,” the scrawny blonde guffawed, shaking her head ruefully. “Still, I should rescue him from himself.” The last thing she needed was someone else who targeted her little brother.

“I’m fine,” Henry stated flatly, walking into the galley with a small metal pot with a lid. He put it on the stove next to the stew and turned on the heating element. Turning toward the now organized shelves, he rooted around in a medium-sized wooden box for a large metal spoon. He eyed his sister before softly saying, “They’re nice,” before returning his focus back to his pot.

“Yeah, they are nice,” Tink agreed as she smiled at the boy fondly. She attempted to finger-comb his unruly hair, but he gently pushed her fussing hands away. “And pretty,” she whispered in his ear, giggling as he blushed.

“Stop teasing him,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. Sex education from a sweet thing wasn’t something she wanted Henry to hear quite yet.

Scuffing, the petite blonde narrowed her eyes but decided to leave it. “What’s in the pot?” she asked, reaching for the lid.

“Brains,” Henry grinned. His eyes widened for effect, and he laughed as Tink yanked her hand away. Preempting the impending question and probable outrage, he said, “It’s to tan the rawhide.”

“Wait,” Tink said confused. “That hide can _not_ possibly be ready, yet.” It could take days to prep the hide. She didn’t know a lot about tanning, but she knew that much.

Shaking his head, the boy replied, “Nope, but Granny asked me to cook down the brains while she hunted for a proper container—whatever that means.” He shrugged and continued, “She said we don’t have enough brains yet, anyway.”

“Fuck,” the petite blonde whispered, walking away from the stove. “That shit is going to stink.” She knew what was coming. They were going to roll that reeking hide up and store it up in some tree. She leaned against the prep table by Emma. “Trust me; it’s going to be _nasty_. We had this one client—”

“We’ll take your word for it,” Emma said, shaking her head. Listening to Tink’s stories when they were alone and a little drunk was one thing but absolutely not with her kid brother around. As Henry started poking at his pot of brains, she whispered, “So, what do you think of the new guys?”

Pursing her lips, Tink weighed her words carefully. “They’re good people, Em. They know how to survive, and right now, we need people with those skills.”

“Yeah, but they’re _runners_ ,” she hissed, unsure how to articulate her concerns. Runaways usually led to bounty hunters.

Frowning, Tink bit out, “Meaning what?” She’d never understand people’s prejudices. “For fuck’s sake, people are people,” she snapped, not keeping her voice down.

Henry looked over his shoulder at them. It was unusual for Emma and Tink to argue.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Emma snarled. Her hands curled into fists as they rested on her knees. “Harboring runners could land us in jail, or worse.” Being separated from her little brother was something she would never allow.

The petite blonde merely raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “We had lunch today,” she stated flatly but couldn’t keep the almost blissful expression from face. “And it was wonderful.”

Henry asked in a slightly whiny tone, “You had lunch?” All he’d eaten today was some bland, mushy oatmeal that Marco had cooked.

“Yeah, rock fish,” Tink replied. Oh, it was glorious, so light and flaky with a sweet-tart sauce made from wild berries. While the deer drained, Regina had easily speared enough fish for everyone to have their fill. “After Granny field dressed the deer, Ruby was whining about being hungry.” It had been rather comical watching the wolf hopping around on the shore, barking at the brunette.

Disappointed that he’d missed such a feast, Henry refocused on his chore. His eyes drifted over to the pot of stew. At least they’d all be eating well that night.

“Neal said the streams around here didn’t have fish,” Emma interrupted. Shifting on the stool, she licked her lips. Maybe she’d volunteer to go hunting next time, but somebody had to make sure Neal stayed honest. She frowned.

“Whatever, that asshole was obviously looking in the wrong spot,” the petite blonde scoffed. “I will say this, though; Regina’s mighty talented with her hands.” She smirked, remembering how deftly the brunette cleaned those fish. It had been insanely sexy.

“She really is,” Henry piped in, focusing on mashing his brains. “She worked that bone tool across that hide like it was a piece of cake.” He paused as his brow furrowed. In a more sedate tone, he added, “It’s a lot harder than it looks, though.” He was disappointed he hadn’t done as well as Regina. “She said it takes lots of practice.”

“Oh yeah,” Tink agreed, nodding. Refocusing, she cleared her throat and shifted the topic, asking, “Any problems in Broken Bell?”

“Nope, it’s still the same dump it’s always been,” Emma answered flatly. She hated going on delivery runs with Neal and Lance. It was almost a nonstop complaint fest. But strangely, at that moment, she didn’t know if she was more annoyed with babysitting those lugs, Tink’s growing infatuation with Regina or her brother’s fondness for their newest members.

~SQ~

Getting to the shipyard from the base camp nestled in the Iron Wastes had taken most of the morning—a fact Lance wasn’t necessarily happy about, despite the steady clip they had managed to maintain across the rugged landscape. He also wasn’t keen on Marco and Henry’s inclusion, but he reluctantly kept any disparaging comments between himself and Neal. More loot was more loot, after all. Thankfully, the weather was clearly in their favor.

With partially cloudy skies, a good breeze blew in from the ocean, which would certainly aid August’s improved olfactory obfuscating devices, or OODs, that he called Nose Jammers. Ruby and Eugenia weren’t impressed with the tech’s ingenuity, but they agreed the name was accurate. However, the gadget also impeded the wearer’s sense of smell—not just their scent—which could prove problematic for werewolves. So, while they rested amidst a grove of trees on a small hill overlooking the complex, August attached and made adjustments to everyone’s jammers.

Well after sunset and between the security guards’ shift change, the band of thieves would slip through a hidden access door in the security fence nestled down in the basin of a large drainage ditch on the southern east end. Neal and Archie would head to the main office on the southwest side by the front entrance in order to temporarily loop the surveillance equipment while the others waited in a maintenance shed. After regrouping, they would sneak around the compound towards Warehouse Five. It was a dangerous plan for such a large group of people but had a huge payoff if everything went right.

_This was easy_ , Archie thought, tapping away at the security computer console in the shipyard’s main office. He quickly brought up the inventory manifest for the six massive warehouses. He frowned when he pulled up the list for Neal’s suggested target, Warehouse Two. _Regina was right_ , he mused, pursing his lips. His eyes cut over to his scruffy escort.

“What the hell are you doing?” hissed Neal angrily, noticing Archie’s preoccupation. “We don’t have time for you to browse.” He nervously peeked over the windowsill from his crouched position. No one was in sight.

The programmer ignored his comrade and quickly transferred the manifests to his tablet computer. It would come in handy during a future discussion with Marco. “Done,” he needlessly said, returning the office computer to standby. He quickly stashed his tablet in his messenger-style bag and slipped the strap over his head.

“Finally,” Neal sighed with relief. So far, nothing was going to plan. He gritted his teeth.

As the overpaid security teams of men and wolves congregated by the front gate discussing last night’s arena games, the pair effortlessly made their way back to the others. From there, the group quickly, and surprisingly quietly, moved to Warehouse Five without incident. August temporarily bypassed the building’s independent security systems and easily overrode the electronic locks. Emma effortless picked the few old-school locks blocking their path to pay dirt.

“We have forty-five minutes before the system is forced to reset,” the tech explained, stowing his equipment. He rocked back and forth on his feet, waiting for Archie to tell them what sections to scour for supplies.

"Let's go!" Lance smiled, rubbing his hands together as his irritations were long forgotten in the face of success.

As group assignments had been determined prior to leaving camp, the programmer quickly rattled off the various aisle locations and crate IDs for items on their shopping list. He sent the pre-assigned teams into immediate action, scattering them across the enormous area of the darkened Warehouse Five. Anton, Tink and Henry ran off towards the crates of medical supplies and MREs. The powder food stuffs weren’t exactly tasty but kept them fed when times were tough. Lance searched for weapons. To his displeasure, most of the arms were designed for augmented medeia. Yet, he did manage to score a few military-grade blades and telescoping pole arms which would sell quite well in the outposts like Broken Bell. Meanwhile, Neal and Emma gathered desperately needed power components, battery packs and solar chargers. Of course, Marco, August and Archie focused solely on technology. They grabbed upgraded tool kits and tablets. Anything and everything they could carry that would revitalize their once thriving livelihood. This left the three runners to their own devices.

Emma was reaching into a crate for another box of stun darts when she suddenly couldn’t move. She grunted, fighting against the invisible force holding her stationary. “Neal,” she hissed in frustration. A hint of fear laced her voice. Had one of them triggered a trap? It wasn’t unheard of for shipping agencies to install theft countermeasures in high value cargo. She could barely see the scruffy man out of the corner of her eye. “Fuck,” she whispered, realizing he was frozen, too, if his string of curses were any indication.

“You’re a hard group to find.” Killian Jones leered from behind the snared pair. He stepped up directly behind the scrawny blonde, his eyes ranking over her worn leather-covered body. “I’ve missed you, Emma,” he whispered, groping her ass. He sighed with anticipation as he stroked over her hip. “We're going to be beautiful together,” he added wistfully. "You'll regret not accepting my offer earlier."

“Go to hell!” Emma snarled through her teeth. Again, she fought against the immobilization field surrounding her. But her concentration was broken when she heard Tink’s piercing scream echoing throughout the cavernous building. “Henry,” she whimpered, kicking herself for letting him out of her sight.

Dragging his hook over his quarry’s posterior, Killian settled the metal object between the scrawny blonde’s legs. He firmly rubbed it against her a few times. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” he taunted, having fantasized about that moment for months.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut and breathed heavily through her nose. “If anything happens to him, I’m going to fucking kill you,” she growled, resuming her struggle to move. Feeling the cold bite of metal on her cheek, she flinched as the cutting point of the hook scraped across her skin.

“You’ve more important things to worry about, love,” he tittered darkly, entranced by the thin line of blood.

"You're a fucking asshole, Hook!" Neal angrily snarled. He was pissed beyond belief. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. This wasn’t their deal.

Turning around and facing Neal, Killian flashed a cruel and dark grin. He walked over and raised his fist, ready to strike the other man’s face. “Release him,” he ordered the two men behind him, milling in the shadows across the aisle.

The moment the ever-obedient medeis complied, Neal stumbled backwards in a vain attempt to dodge the incoming blow, but he was too slow. Killian's knuckles slammed directly into his nose, breaking the cartilage with a sharp snap. At some point, the metal hook tore into Neal’s protective leathers, holding him in place as he took hit after hit in the face. He crumpled under the brutal onslaught.

Releasing his hook from the torn leathers, Killian roughly shoved the scruffy man onto the concrete floor. He smirked with satisfaction, watching as the loser spit out blood and teeth. “You’re a worthless piece of shit, Neal Cassidy.” He swung his right, metal-tipped boot into the downed man’s stomach. “Of course, it didn’t have to be this way,” he grunted from exertion, kicking Neal in the ribs. “But you always did make things harder on yourself,” he said, releasing a heavy breath. Snapping his fingers, he gestured vaguely towards the downed man. “Take him outside; remind him what happens when someone disrespects the Diamond Dogs.”

Emma tensed at the other men’s sinister laughter. She squeezed her eyes shut as she once again felt hot breath on her ear. Swallowing thickly as she was ultra-aware of his proximity, her mind raced. She was trapped.

“Now, where were we?” Killian asked in a husky tone, his voice thick with excitement. He brought his fingers up and smeared the fine streak of blood across Emma's pale cheek. “Give in and enjoy it, love. It’ll be better for both of us.” Just as he was leaning in for a taste, he screamed in agony.

Cringing from the loud cry in her ear, Emma tensed further when Killian’s body roughly pressed into her. The only thing that kept her from falling was the immobilization field.

One of the henchmen dragging Neal away stopped and turned around. “Boss?” His eyes widened and his jaw slacked in utter surprise upon noticing a crossbow bolt lodged in his leader’s right shoulder. His gaze scanned the length of the aisle, but too much of the space was encased in darkness. He instinctively reached for his pistol. However, any further assistance he might have offered was for naught as another bolt pierced him squarely through his open mouth. His corpse fell on top of the semi-conscious Neal, the gun hitting the concrete with a hard clatter. Only then did the medeis turn to see what was happening.

Ignoring his downed comrade, Killian jumped from Emma. He snarled and twisted about, unable to grab the bolt buried in back of his right shoulder. Blind with rage, he backhanded the curve of his hook alongside the scrawny blonde’s head. Somehow, this was her fault.

The medeis’s lip curled as he dropped Neal’s arm. His gaze scanned the aisle and landed on the shooter shrouded in the shadows. Yet, before he could raise his arms and direct his energies, a bolt burrowed into his left eye all the way down to the fletching.

Emma cried out in pain from Hook's blow. However, as her enforced paralysis was immediately reversed, she scrambled away from Killian, missing another wild swing of the hook.

Lunging to recapture his prey, Killian abruptly halted upon seeing 15-196.97-W-97 standing under the dim light of a security lamp a few meters away. He sneered but quickly sobered upon noticing the crossbow. That’s when he remembered that one was scheduled for the arena games. “Fuck me,” he whispered. How the hell did these losers get mixed up with the runners?

“I’d rather not,” Eugenia snarled. She was pissed beyond belief. These people were goddamned idiots. After Regina had pointed out how they botched their surveillance, she should have asked more questions about this fuckery of a job. However, her desperation to have their inhibitors deactivated was just as much to blame as the amateurs they'd gotten mixed up with.

“Kill him!” the scrawny blonde demanded in an angry hiss as she stood. Her hands trembled as she hastily straightened her leathers. She wanted to run to her brother, but she couldn’t leave this business unfinished. It wouldn’t be right to leave Neal, either.

Killian laughed. “Yes, kill me,” he taunted, narrowing his eyes. “Let’s see how that works out for you lot.” He hadn't stayed top dog for so long without certain insurances in place.

Allowing her anger to flare, Emma stomped back towards the Diamond Dog’s leader. She was almost within his reach when another bolt sliced into the man’s right thigh. His cry of pain caught her off guard, causing her to hop back. She glanced over her shoulder at the older werewolf.

“Get your head out of your ass, girl!” snapped Eugenia, jogging down the aisle towards the scrawny blonde. She grabbed her roughly, pulling her towards the abandoned bags. “Grab your stuff,” she ordered, releasing Emma with a gentle shove. "We need to go." She quickly primed another shot.

Hurriedly slipping on her backpack, Emma looked down at Neal. She sighed and roughly helped him to stand. "Come on, asshole," she grumbled, steadying him on his feet. "You look like shit," she commented, picking up his pack and helping him put it on before slipping an arm around his waist.

"Thanks," Neal replied. With his head fuzzy and right eye already starting to swell, he was thankful for the help. “We need to hurry,” he slurred as they slowly shuffled down the aisle.

"You're not going to make it out of here alive," Killian intoned, having dragged himself away from the trigger-happy werewolf.

Having heard enough, Eugenia strutted across the aisle and slammed the stock of her crossbow against the side of his head. She smirked with satisfaction as he slumped unconscious. “Prick,” she sneered. Briskly, she jogged past Emma and Neal. She made it to the end of the aisle before she stopped and turned back. “Hustle!” she hissed with a frown. Her finger absently caressed the trigger guard.

“ _Hustle_ ,” Emma mocked softly, practically dragging Neal. “Damn it, Neal, at least try,” she grumbled.

“I _am_ but everything’s titling,” Neal muttered, thinking he probably had a concussion.

Suddenly, the warehouse’s fire alarm sounded. Klaxons blared as warning lights flashed and sprinklers covered everything in water.

“For fuck's sake,” Eugenia cursed. Every security officer in the shipyard would be converging on this warehouse in a matter of minutes. She peered down the wide, center aisle running the length of the building, spotting flames on the opposite end. “Ruby, Regina,” she whispered, fighting the impulse to find her granddaughters. That was when she saw Ruby sprinting towards her with Archie, Marco and August in tow. But where were the others? Where was Regina?

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” called Lance, jogging up from another aisle. His large, overstuffed backpack rattled with his bounty. He stopped next to Eugenia and watched the growing flames. “How the hell...?” he trailed off.

“Diamond Dogs,” Emma answered, slightly out of breath and struggling to keep Neal upright. She bit her lip, needing to make sure her little brother was alright. “Someone take Neal, I have to find Henry.” Her gaze darted between Eugenia and Lance. Her irritation rose as neither moved to relieve her.

“Damn it,” the black man snarled, shifting the weight of his pack. Those Diamond Dog bastards had been a thorn in their side for months. Hiding out in the Iron Wastes had been the only way to avoid them, until now. Pursing his lips, he glanced briefly at Eugenia before focusing on Emma. “We _need_ to get out of here,” he corrected in a flat tone.

“I _need_ to find my fucking brother,” the scrawny blonde snarled, removing Neal’s arm from around her shoulders. However, before she could step away and fully remove her support, a strong, large hand gripped her forearm. “Let go of me!” she hissed in outrage, trying to yank her arm free from the pinching hold. It was useless; she couldn’t break free from Lance’s grip.

“We planned for this. We agreed,” the black man said firmly. He shook Emma’s arm for emphasis. “Don’t jeopardize the group.”

Swallowing thickly, Eugenia slung her crossbow over her shoulder, all the while watching Ruby run towards her. “We need to move,” she declared, walking towards a swaying Neal. She removed his pack of pilfered goods and effortlessly hoisted the scruffy man over her shoulder. Without missing a beat, she started trotting towards the side exit they used to enter the warehouse.

“What?” Lance and Emma said in unison, both clearly surprised for different reasons.

“We don’t have time,” the grandmother said, looking over her shoulder at the fire. “We have to get out of here.” She didn’t want to leave, but she’d agreed to help. She wanted to drop this worthless hunk of flesh and search for her other granddaughter. But she had to trust Regina to survive.

~SQ~

Ruby released a low growl, causing her sister and grandmother to stop fumbling with their packs. Rotating her ears forward, she stood rigid as she sniffed the air. Then she huffed and looked over her shoulder to flash her teeth. Turning back, she stared down the aisle again.

“Shit,” Eugenia drawled softly. She carefully replaced the lid of the crate they had ransacked for supplies. It contained military-grade survival vests and gear designed specifically for werewolves. Looking at the brunette and zipping her vest, she whispered, “Someone’s in here with us.”

“The guards?” Regina asked, slightly confused, slipping on her own vest and backpack. After checking her watch, she quickly secured a vest pack designed for wolves onto her sister. “They’ll be easy enough to avoid.” She absently adjusted the various cinches and straps.

“Still, we shouldn’t take any chances,” Eugenia grunted, securing her pack. She retrieved her crossbow from the top of another crate. “We should head out.”

The trio moved carefully towards the rendezvous point, avoiding the sparse lighting throughout the warehouse. Although the brunette didn’t sense anything yet, she kept a close eye on her grandmother and sister. Both were abnormally tense. Then Tink’s scream pierced the air.

“Henry,” Regina whispered, stopping. She looked down the nearest aisle. “They’re near the med kits and MREs,” she supplied, starting to move away.

“Fuck,” her grandmother cursed. Releasing a heavy sigh, she ordered, “Go, they’re the closest. We’ll check on the others.” She didn’t want to do anything but get her granddaughters the hell out of there. However, she didn’t trust this ragtag group not to sell them out if they got caught. She looked down at the wolf. “Find the techs,” she said to Ruby before running off herself.

The wolf didn’t need to be told twice. She quickly passed her grandmother before darting down an aisle and disappearing into the darkness. Something about this didn’t add up. Everything had gone too smoothly, but she couldn’t worry about that right then.

Breathing heavily through her nose, Regina ran full tilt around the inside perimeter of Warehouse Five. She quickly glanced down each row she passed, knowing she was close to the right section. Hearing Tink’s bone chilling scream immediately shifted the brunette into crisis mode, her mind flashing to a kennel fire from a few years ago where they had lost a substantial number of pups. She remembered their screams and the howling wails of the pack.

Spotting Tink’s pale blonde hair halfway down an aisle, she didn’t even pause to assess the situation. She just reacted, forming fireballs in each black, gloved hand. Reflexively, she pushed her hands out while still running towards the fight.

The balls of flame spiraled towards their intended target. A laughing man with a naginata-type pole arm loomed over a bleeding and dazed Anton who was on all fours. His blade tip plucked at the big man’s tattered leathers every time Anton attempted a counter move. He landed crushing blows with the butt of his weapon to Anton’s head, hands and chest before inflicting a dizzying series of slicing cuts—not enough to kill but certainly painful. His fun quickly ended in flames.

While one fireball connected squarely in the center of his leather-clad back, the other ignited the man’s mop of oily hair. He screamed in utter terror at the sudden and surprising pain. Dropping his weapon, his bare hands frantically beat against his skull. He spun around and vainly attempted to pull off his protective gear as the sweet smell of burning flesh already perfumed the air.

Seizing the opening, Anton shakily stood and managed to land a solid hit with his baton to his assailant’s temple. The blow knocked the frantic man out, dropping him to the concrete floor with his hair and back still smoldering. Looking down the aisle, Anton grinned at his rescuer before collapsing onto his knees. He breathing was labored as struggled to stand again. Tink needed his help. Regina was a blur as she ran past him.

~SQ~

The moment the petite blonde had spotted Jacqueline the Slicer and two Diamond Dogs walking towards them, she’d told Henry to run. Thankfully, the teenager didn’t hesitate, and she screamed for all she was worth, hoping to alert the others. She’d heard a lot about the gang during her time as a sweet thing in Broken Bell and had even bore witness to the short, auburn haired woman’s signature skill set as a deadly knife fighter. As one of the two men accompanying Jacqueline bolted after the teenager, she regretted the order. She recognized the lanky sicko that gave chase but hoped Henry was quick enough to evade him.

Immediately, the other Diamond Dog extended his telescoping naginata with a flourish and a smile. He impressively twirled the weapon about as he charged Anton, giggling. As the two men engaged in combat, that was the last moment Tink could focus on anything other than the flurry of Jacqueline’s attacks. She suffered a few nicks and cuts of varying depth all over her body. However, the petite blonde’s skill and lone short-bladed knife was no match for the Slicer’s. She was nothing but a toy. Though, she did land a few piercing cuts, they only served to incite the other woman’s anger.

Spurred on by the thrill of the impending kill, Jacqueline was quickly losing interest with merely playing with her prey. She easily disarmed the former sweet thing, sending the pathetic knife she wielded sliding across the concrete floor to stop several feet away. Then with a few simple moves, she had her knives poised for her finishing blow. It would be a slow and merciless death. Maybe as this one bled out on the floor, she’d take the time to sheath her blades to give the whore a proper send off.

Tink cried out as the Slicer pressed the tips of the knives into her cheekbones. She could feel the metal pressing into the bone. Her mind pictured the horrific demise she was about to experience. How many faces had she seen cut into a whimsical grin of death? While her eyes watered from pain and terror, she allowed her lips to tremble but refused to beg for her life. She wasn’t about to give this twisted woman that much satisfaction.

Jacqueline’s grin faded upon hearing her companion’s frantic screams. Partially turning her head to look, her jaw fell lax. “What the hell?” she muttered. Her gaze focused on the flames. Suddenly, she groaned in pain as she was roughly shoved away. “You bitch!” she seethed, glaring at the sweet thing who’d just kneed her in the crotch. Glaring, she rolled her wrists and effortlessly readjusted her grip on her knives. “You should’ve kicked harder, sweetie,” she taunted, pushing through the throbbing pain.

Quickly, Tink moved to retrieve her knife. She breathed heavily through her nose and vainly tried to calm her nerves. But her hands shook as she gripped her blade, giving her anxiety away. That was when she saw Regina running down the aisle. Sighing in relief, her eyes spotted Anton trying to stand and the naginata-wielding man sprawled out on the floor with his head and back smoldering. She almost laughed.

Sneering, Jacqueline again shifted her grip as she took a step towards the petite blonde. She rolled the knife in her left hand and shifted to throw it. “You’re still going to die, bitch,” she growled, raising her arm to throw her knife. After she killed the blonde, all it would take was a pivot and another flick of the wrist to deal with the newcomer. However, the famed Jacqueline the Slicer of the Diamond Dogs wasn’t expecting to see the floor careening towards her face.

Regina growled, running past Anton. Her anger flared as she grabbed the back of the knife thrower’s head. Utilizing her momentum and strength, she easily slammed the woman’s face flat into the concrete floor with a sharp, wet crack. She was taught to kill swiftly and decisively. Confident the woman was dead, she stood up straight and glanced around.

“Henry,” Tink whispered, swallowing. Her eyes met the brunette’s as she hurriedly said with a hoarse voice, “The other Diamond Dog ran after him.” She pointed down the aisle.

With a quick look over her shoulder at Anton, Regina nodded and took off in a full sprint. The boy was vulnerable with limited defensive skills.

It took a moment for the petite blonde to turn away from the running brunette. When she did finally look away, her gaze dropped down the dead woman in front of her and the growing pool of blood surrounding her. She swallowed, her tongue feeling thick and fat in her mouth. Closing her eyes, she trotted down to a standing Anton. “Are you alright?”

“As right as I can be after dancing with a food processor,” the fat man quipped with a slight smile. It was quickly replaced with a wince as he took a step towards his discarded pack. “We need to get out of here.”

“But—,” Tink cut herself off. They were in no condition to follow Regina, let alone rescue Henry. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

Using his baton as a walking stick, Anton moved more easily. He was in pain, but none of his injuries were life threatening, “I know,” he said. Rolling his lips, he added, “Regina will find him.” That’s when their eyes met.

But really, what were they going to do? Limp their battered and bleeding bodies across the warehouse and hope not to get spotted by anymore Diamond Dogs—or worse, get caught by security? So with great sadness, they gathered up their packs of pilfered goods and the pair cautiously made their way to exit.

~SQ~

Henry didn’t even hesitant when Tink said to run. He simply turned and bolted. His overflowing, threadbare pack smacked hard against his back as he ran for all he was worth. Reaching the end of the aisle, he panicked, looking repeatedly in all directions and drawing a blank on where the others were supposed to be. That’s when he glanced behind him and saw the lanky man running after him. Picking a random direction, the teenager took off again. He stumbled a few times, almost falling, but he managed to keep moving.

Sweat poured down Henry’s face as he tried to evade his gaining pursuer. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to out run the guy, he let his pack slip off his shoulders and drop to the ground with a thud. Some of the contents spilled out across the concrete floor. However, the lanky Diamond Dog merely leapt over the bag and scattered goods with ease, a manic grin across his angular features.

Henry was about to cut left around an aisle corner when he felt something grab the back of his shirt collar, yanking him back. He cried out in fear, but a leather gloved hand covered his mouth, cutting off his shout. Frantic, he struggled against the lanky man’s tightening grip but stopped as the Diamond Dog breathily chuckled in his ear.

“Aw, don’t stop,” the man whispered in a pouty tone, holding the boy flush against his front. He buried his nose in soft, brown hair and inhaled. “You were doing so well.” A broad hand snaked down the teenager’s body and aggressively cupped Henry’s groin. As he stroked, his hips crudely gyrated.

Tears fell as Henry squeezed his eyes shut. He had to get free, but how? As the Diamond Dog’s grip loosened, he attempted to elbow the man in the ribs. However, before the blow landed, he was roughly shoved away. His hands flew out in front of him, catching his fall on the concrete floor. Ignoring the jarring pain in his wrists, he scrambled to get away as strong hands grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar and pants. He was practically picked up and thrown into a stack of crates. He grunted when his shoulder made contact and he crumpled down onto the floor, groaning. Suddenly, he felt dizzy as he fought to keep his eyes open.

“Thought you could sneak up on us, huh?” the lanky man laughed as he un-holstered an energy pistol. His thumb flicked a switch, activating the weapon. It clicked and released an unmistakable soft, high-pitched whine. He slowly scanned the dark. Hearing a noise off to his right, he instinctively reacted. He pivoted and fired. A green streak of energy sliced into a stack of crates down the aisle. The wood and metal splintered and hissed as pieces of both container and contents caught on fire. “You can’t hide from me!” he taunted, twisting and firing at another stack of crates.

Henry pressed the heel of his right hand against his forehead, fighting the rising nausea. He needed to get away but found it difficult simply keeping his eyes open. Finally managing to sit up, he took several deep breaths and promptly passed out. The next thing he knew a sharp, cold sensation against his neck was making him gasp awake as water ran down his face. Bleary eyed, he blinked to see Regina kneeling in front of him. He smiled goofily at her. “Hi,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“Can you stand?” the brunette asked, slipping on her own pack. Without waiting for an answer, she immediately slipped an arm under the teenager’s and hoisted him onto his feet.

“Yeah,” he answered as his gaze drifted to the roaring flames behind her. “Whoa,” he gasped, trying to move around Regina, but she quickly redirected him. He didn’t resist.

“We have to go,” she said, pushing his abandoned backpack into his arms. “Put that on,” she instructed before dragging him away from the growing fire and dead body.

Looking over his shoulder, Henry asked, “What happened to that guy?” He swallowed as his eyes randomly searched the burning crates. A loud bang echoed throughout the warehouse as another crate exploded. He ducked, instinctively covering his head. Debris littered the aisle as another stack erupted into flames.

“He’s no longer of consequence,” Regina replied flatly. She watched the teenager out of the corner of her eye. There would be emotional repercussions, but for now, she needed to get him to safety. “Come on,” she ordered, breaking into a jog.

“Okay,” Henry said without hesitation. As they ran, he stayed on the brunette’s left flank without question or compliant, even as his head felt like it was splitting in two.

~SQ~

Dropping Neal unceremoniously on the dusty, hard earth, Eugenia rolled her stiff shoulders. She half listened to the others falling to the ground in exhaustion as she walked towards the crest of the small hill overlooking the shipyard. She frowned at the scene below. Even at a fair distance away, smoke could be seen billowing out of the northwest corner of Warehouse Five. The firefighters, even with their high-tech equipment, were struggling to contain the growing inferno. Sighing, she peered into the night and searched the horizon for any sign of Regina or Henry.

Upon reaching the side door of the warehouse, the tattered group met up with Anton and Tink. The large man looked as if he taken quite a beating, much worse than Neal’s face pounding. His leathers were sliced all over, and where they were shredded, blood was visible. But despite his injuries, he pushed onward. Tink, on the other hand, had a series of nasty gashes across her forearms and a few nasty nicks marring her cheeks. Henry and Regina weren’t with them. It took all of Eugenia’s willpower not to dump Neal and run off to find her granddaughter.

Emma wasn’t as successful at curbing the impulse. Thankfully, Marco quickly got the scrawny blonde back in line. He gently reminded her that they were all worried about Henry _and_ Regina. But if they were caught or if she was caught, what help would they be to either of them? The old man pointed out that her family needed her now. Emma cast a sheepish look at Tink and Anton before adjusting her packs and nodding. It was a good thing, too, because Eugenia was ready to knock her out and have Ruby drag her annoying ass the rest of the way back. It was Tink’s adamant insistence that Henry was safe with Regina that kept the scrawny blonde from running off. Eugenia certainly understood.

“Ruby, stop,” August hissed, trying to gently dissuade the wolf from chewing through the strap of her Nose Jammer. “I’ll take it off, just please calm down.” He instantly held his hands up at the responding growl. When she finally stilled, he carefully went about taking off the device.

Unhooking her own OOD, Eugenia walked over to Archie. She handed him the device, saying, “We’ll meet you back at camp.” She turned to Marco who nodded. “Come on, Ruby.”

The wolf shook her entire body, resettling the specially designed supply vest for werewolves. Playing it smart, the trio had ran off to the aisle containing military gear. The compact packs contained all one ever needed to survive as a human or wolf. She took several long sniffs of the air and jogged past her grandmother.

“Wait,” Emma called, clambering onto her feet. “I’m going with you.” She dropped her and Neal’s packs on the ground.

With a hard scowl, Eugenia stopped and partially turned. She assessed the scrawny blonde with a hard eye. “No, you’ll only slow us down.” And she started walking towards Ruby who was already twenty meters away.

“Fuck you, Grandma, my little brother is out there!” Emma snarled, taking stomping steps towards Eugenia but was gently stopped by Tink before she could embarrass herself.

“Emma, stop,” the petite blonde implored with a calming tone. “Let them find Henry and Regina.” She gently placed a hand on the scrawny blonde’s shoulder and squeezed. “They can cover more ground.” The without you was heavily implied.

Opening her mouth, Emma quickly searched Tink’s gaze before looking at Anton who simply nodded. “I have to _do_ something,” she whispered. Her eyes dropped to the ground. Old feelings of self-loathing sparked within her.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lance huffed, readjusting his backpack. He fiddled with fastening Neal’s pack over his own. “Just help the sweet thing patch Anton and herself up so we can get the fuck out of here.”

“Damn, you’re an asshole,” snapped August, checking the charge on his Nose Jammer. “We’ve got maybe thirty minutes before the jammers die.” He looked between everyone, noticing that Eugenia had already slipped away.

Sighing, Archie reluctantly added, “They’ll send the wolves out soon.” He shifted uncomfortably. If they were lucky, the remaining time on the OODs would get them out of range of the wolves’ sensitive nostrils.

Patting Tink’s hand,which was still on her shoulder, Emma whispered, “I’m okay.” She walked over to Anton. As she knelt down next to him, she smiled as he pulled out one of the med kits from his pack. She selected a few cleaning pads and salve. While she worked on Anton and Tink, her gaze would occasionally drift out towards the night. _Please find them._ The notion of them startled her. When had she become concerned about Regina?

“Regina saved us,” Anton said softly, looking over his shoulder at Lance. The brute was too busy fitting his packs to pay any attention to them. He turned the other direction and saw Marco, Archie and August in a tight cluster off to the side. He frowned when the programmer angrily pointed at an unconscious Neal lying off to the side. It was strange because Archie didn’t get mad. Finally, he refocused on his friend. “Henry will be alright,” he reassured her.

Swallowing, Emma merely nodded as she wrapped bandages over Tink’s forearms. Her friends who had become a surrogate family had seen it; she just hadn’t been paying attention. The runners, especially Regina, had been kind to her little brother—more so than any other member of their group had in a long time, which only further spurred Emma’s guilt. Until the day of the heist, Henry was practically the brunette’s shadow. He had talked to her almost all day, asking her questions about all kinds of crazy stuff. From what Emma could tell, she was listening and actually interacting with him, not just muttering the typical blanket responses. Regina had demonstrated interest in him that even his own sister hadn’t in a long time.

~SQ~

“What’s that?” Henry asked, pointing across the dry, cracking earth towards the dirt road roughly a hundred yards away. He wiped the sweat off his brow and squinted in the bright sunlight. “It looks like a wagon.” He glanced between his companions. As Regina stopped and shielded her eyes from the noon sun to look, he stayed next to her, trusting her to keep him safe.

Unconcerned and uninterested in the teenager’s almost constant prattling, Ruby gave a slightly annoyed huff at the question and continued trotting along while occasionally sniffing the air. She didn’t like the idea of crossing the flat, open fields. They were too exposed, and with the cover of the forest still some distance away, they had nowhere to hide. Unlike her sister, though, the teenager was actually slowing them down, increasing their risk of being discovered. Besides that, the earth was hot on her delicate paws.

“Something you don’t need to concern yourself with, boy,” Eugenia grunted as she kept walking. She shifted the heavy backpack of pilfered supplies from the warehouse. Readjusting her grip on her crossbow, she ordered, “Less talking, more moving.”

“Granny,” the brunette scolded gently. She looked towards her grandmother and sighed, understanding the grumpiness. Facing the teenager, she explained, “That’s a vardo. Migrant farm workers use them to transport their families between holdings.”

“We can’t linger in these fields,” Eugenia said with rising irritation, still walking steadily. It was bad enough they were all carrying loaded packs, but their sluggish progress through the dead fields meant someone could spot them from the road. Those Diamond Dogs were pretty well outfitted. It wouldn’t surprise her if they had access to hover vehicles, and there was no way they could outrun them. “We can rest once we’re past the tree line.”

“Come on,” the brunette ordered, gently cupping the teenager’s elbow. Once he was in step, she dropped her hand.

Suddenly, Ruby went stiff. She growled as her head jerked back toward the road. Her eyes and ears fixed on the horizon. Two large plumes of dirt and dust were flying up into the air as something barreled towards the lumbering vardo drawn by two horses and followed by four goats.

“Get down,” Eugenia snapped, dropping onto the hot, hard ground. She crawled between her granddaughters. “It looks like two hovercycles,” she commented with a glower, settling.

Dragging Henry down, Regina hoped they hadn’t been spotted or that the vehicles weren’t equipped with surveillance equipment. As her grandmother settled down on her other side, she pulled out a compact set of binoculars she had requisitioned last night. “Confirmed, two hovercycles and two riders with no distinguishing markings.” She passed the field glasses to Eugenia.

“Shit,” Eugenia cursed, taking the binoculars. “There’s no way to tell if they’re from that fucking gang that jumped us last night or if they’re just bounty hunters.” She watched as the cyclists stopped abruptly in front of the vardo, causing the horses to rear up in fear.

Quickly hopping off his bike, the rider in black leathers and grey armor yanked the sandy-haired driver off the wagon. The second rider casually pulled off his helmet to reveal a frizzy mop of red hair and pale skin. Ignoring the driver’s pleas, the first rider still wore his helmet as he grabbed the sandy-haired man by his shirt front and punched him several times in the face before tossing him down to the ground. The redhead walked over and appeared to ask the driver a question. When the man adamantly shook his head, the red-haired rider pulled out a pistol and shot the driver in the shoulder. The driver screamed as he curled into a ball.

Eugenia scanned the horizon with the field glasses. Their options weren’t good. Passing them back to her granddaughter, she said, “We’ll make a run for it while they’re _entertained_.”

“How do we know they’re after us?” Henry shakily asked, frowning when the brunette looked through the binoculars. He was torn between wanting to see what was happening and not.

“We don’t,” the grandmother gruffly replied, waiting for Regina to finish her own assessment.

When another scream was heard coming from the vardo, Ruby growled softly. Her ears turned forward as she glared across the field. She shifted on her paws. Those people were going to die. Her lip curled in anger. Those farmers hadn’t done anything wrong. She hastily glanced at her sister from the corner of her eyes.

The black-clad rider violently dragged a short, pregnant woman with close-cropped black hair out of the back of the wagon. She was roughly shoved towards the driver, almost falling over. When she noticed the redhead pointing a gun at the sandy-haired man curled up on the packed dirt road, she clamored towards the driver and helped him to sit up. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded with the two cyclists.

“The woman’s pregnant,” Regina supplied, managing to read the woman’s lips. She watched as the black-clad rider continued to rampage, tossing things out of the vardo. The pregnant woman cried and clung to the obviously injured man. It would be days before they reached the next outpost. Horse-drawn wagons weren’t built for speed.

“It’s not our problem,” Eugenia said sternly. She ignored the wolf’s low growl and bared teeth.

Sighing softly, the brunette caught Henry’s despondent look. The safe thing was to run and hope the two cyclists didn’t notice them. “We need to help them,” she said, quickly repacking the binoculars. The relief in the teenager’s eyes and Ruby’s panting tongue gave her encouragement.

“Are you fucking insane?” the grandmother hissed, roughly grabbing her granddaughter’s arm. “Too many people already know about you.” Narrowing her eyes, she glared across at the teenager. “It’s only a matter of time before _they_ turn on us.” She paused, focusing on Regina again, “And it’s a sure bet that those thugs from last night will be searching for us.”

With wide eyes, Henry adamantly shook his head. “Nobody from our group will tell, honest.” Of course, he was leery about Neal and Lance. But they wouldn’t do that now, especially since Regina saved him. That had to mean something.

“Sure, boy,” Eugenia scoffed. She glared at the teenager. “Neal would sell anybody if the price was right.” Her face contorted with contempt. “And Lance just wants _my_ granddaughter dead.”

Henry looked away, knowing she was probably right. He glanced at Ruby when she huffed.

“We have to try,” Regina countered firmly, meeting her grandmother’s hard gaze. “No one deserves to be treated like _that_.” She pointed back at the vardo.

Another scream from the pregnant woman drew their attention back to the now smoking wagon. The first rider walked around, swinging a sledgehammer and busting the spokes of one wheel then another. He casually bashed in one goat’s head when he circled the vardo.

As the traveling farmers clung to one another, the animals tethered to the wagon cried out in panic, sensing the danger. The creatures vainly tried to break free from their bindings and harnesses. The horses started pulling the vardo forward, but as the weight shifted on the broken spokes, the wheels gave out. The entire thing collapsed with a thunderous crash, catching one of the goats under its massive weight and sending a cloud of dust into the air. As the bells around the last two goats’ necks sounded incessantly between their frantic bleats, it spooked one of the horses. It reared up and whinnied, its legs moving wildly. As the horses repeatedly stomped at the dirt road, the black-clad rider walked up the other side of vardo and pummeled the sledgehammer into the agitated beast’s ribcage. The redhead laughed as the farmers cowered and the horse struggled.

Quickly, the brunette slipped off her backpack and untied Ruby’s make-shift saddle pack. “Stay with Granny,” she instructed the teenager while pulling the pack off. She climbed onto the wolf’s back, and instantly, Ruby sprinted towards for the vardo.

“What are they going to do?” Henry asked with fear coloring his voice. “Those guys will see them before they get close enough.”

“Regina will mask Ruby’s approach,” Eugenia sighed, standing up. She grabbed the saddle pack and slung it over her shoulders. “Can you carry that?” she asked, pointing at the brunette’s discarded bag.

Nodding, the teenager scrambled onto his feet and picked up the other backpack. He winced at the sheer weight of it. Silently, he followed Eugenia across the field towards the wagon. He remained quiet as she grumbled and cursed under her breath. His eyes only left her back once, when he saw the horse drop onto the ground and the black-clad rider raising his sledgehammer over his head.

It didn’t take long for the wolf to close the distance to the vardo. Once her front paws hit the edge of the dirt road, the two hovercyclists finally turned around, just then becoming aware of their presence. The red-haired man raised his weapon to fire but was immediately flung backwards by an invisible force. He and his pistol tumbled across the hard, packed dirt some twenty feet away. Regina abruptly flicked her wrist, sending the pistol further out into the fields. Sliding off the wolf’s back, she focused on calming the horse that was still alive.

The black-clad rider adjusted his grip on the blood covered sledgehammer and charged at Ruby with a roar muffled by his helmet. The wolf easily dodged the wide swing and lunged at him, aiming for the weakest point of his armor. She buried her sharp teeth into the man’s armpit. Biting through tough fabric and tearing into the soft, supple flesh, she released him long enough to circle out briefly before leaping at his chest, slamming him to the ground. Ruby clamped her teeth around his exposed throat, her head thrashing side-to-side as she shook her kill, waiting to snap the man’s spine. When she was satisfied, she turned her focus to the redheaded cyclist, blood dripping from her snarling jowls.

Screaming again, the pregnant woman buried her face into the driver’s chest. He wrapped his arms around his wife.

Ruby snarled and snapped in the air as she stalked closer to the frizzy-haired man. He stayed crouched down on his hands and knees. Their eyes locked onto each other. He sneered.

After infusing a state of calm on all the frightened animals, Regina turned and frowned. She realized this other one knew how to fight werewolves. “Ruby,” she cautioned, watching as the redhead carefully situated his body for a counter measure. Feeling something wet on her upper lip, she felt a soft jolt of pain settle behind her eyes and hoped her sister would end this quickly.

However, the wolf didn’t heed the brunette’s warning and foolishly ignored the red-haired man’s confidence. She leapt towards her prey with teeth and claws all bearing down.

With a cruel grin, he rolled his left wrist and jerked his hand downward. There was a soft click followed by a faint hiss. A small, poisoned dart shot out of a device hidden under his torn, black leather bracer.

And without any thought, Regina thrust her hands out in front of her, sending out a distortion wave. Time stopped within the limited confines of the resulting bubble which encapsulated the chaotic scene—burning vardo and all. Her head throbbed as she ran towards the projectile, snatching it from the air. Another second and its poison tip would have pierced Ruby’s right eye. Her hands started to tremble uncontrollably, forcing her to drop the dart as she stumbled out of the wolf’s trajectory. She had wanted to plunge the deadly dart in the cyclist’s neck, but her vision went black as she felt more blood falling from her nose.

As her sister fell face first and unconscious onto the hard, packed dirt road, time resumed. Ruby found her target and garnered great satisfaction from slaughtering the other cyclist. She ripped his throat out with savage beauty. Blood sprayed across the yellow-orange soil. Only after his final heartbeat did she trot over to her injured sister. Whimpering, she lay down next to the brunette on the hot ground.

Upon seeing Regina throw out her hands, Eugenia tripled her pace, leaving the teenager well behind. When she was almost to the road, she shrugged off her bags and raised her crossbow as Ruby was finishing the second cyclist off. Dropping onto her knees, she checked her granddaughter’s pulse. Relief washed over her when she found one. Her eyes snapped up to the couple across the road. “You’d better be worth this,” she snarled. A low growl thrummed in her throat.

The sandy-haired man and pregnant woman still clung to one another. Their matching expressions of terror and amazement were fitting considering what they had just witnessed. After a few swallows, the driver said in a gravelly voice, “Thank you.”

“Whoa,” Henry rasped, breathing heavily, sweat running down the sides of his reddened face. He dropped his bags next to Eugenia’s and stood bent over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes locked onto Regina’s prone form. _She doesn’t look hurt_ , he thought, but then he noticed the sporadic twitches of her gloved hand or booted foot. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Get the goats, boy,” Eugenia snapped as she gently rolled her granddaughter onto her back. She fumbled with her canteen and pulled out a rag from a pouch on her belt. Wetting it, she tenderly began cleaning off the dirt and blood. “Stupid girl,” she whispered, fighting back tears. She glanced up when Ruby abruptly stood and growled. The couple had stood and was attempting to approach them. “You’d better get your horse,” she suggested, nodding towards the flaming wagon.

Still in their altered mental state, the livestock continued to ignore the raging fire and the immediate peril it portended.

Startled into action, the man quickly moved to unhook the horse’s harness from the yoke. Leading it away from their burning home, he passed the surprisingly still calm animal’s reins to his pregnant wife. He jogged around to the rear of the vardo and helped the teenager untie the two goats. Letting the boy take the animals, he glanced around at the few meager belongings scattered across the road, most of which were broken. His gaze drifted up to the roaring flames that consumed his family’s home. With a sigh, he scooped up two blankets, a thankfully full canteen, a small pot, a bundle of rope and a small backpack his wife used to harvest herbs. He quickly opened the bag and stuffed the remaining herbs in the pot. Shoving the pot into the pack, he secured their sole water container to the outside and quickly folded up the two blankets. He didn’t know what they were going to do.

Eugenia yanked the leather harness off the dead horse. The moving and cracking of bones and flesh made a sickening sound. Quickly, she passed the bloody straps of leather to the teenager, ordering him to wipe it off and dismantle it. She salvaged the wooden traces off the vardo and attached both of them to the remaining horse’s harness. “We need get away from here,” she explained to no one in particular as she tied the yoke to the end of the traces. Confiscating the farmers’ rope and blankets, she managed to build a suitable travois to carry Regina and their packs in just a few minutes. It wasn’t her best work, but it would help transport the brunette while covering their tracks as one weighted blanket was drug behind the assembly.

Henry hastily wiped off Ruby’s face and muzzle while Eugenia restrained their packs and Regina on the travois. He frowned when the wolf initially resisted, but his cutting glance toward the farmers quickly changed her temperament. He smiled when she bumped against his hip. “You’re welcome,” he said. However, he scowled when Ruby sniffed at the dead horse.

The wolf turned towards her grandmother and gave a low, rolling bark before trotting back towards the dead goat. She grumbled a little bit, moving her ears and holding eye contact with Eugenia. Her tail swung low and slow.

“Good idea,” the grandmother nodded, turning towards the farmers. She looked at the pregnant woman and asked, “How far along are you?”

Blinking, the woman was distracted by Ruby’s haunting howl. “Six months,” she stammered. “Are you all werewolves?” she asked hesitantly.

“Any complications?” Eugenia prompted, ignoring the question. When the woman shook her head, she immediately guided her towards the horse and helped her up. “We’ll travel in a line,” she ordered, passing the reins to the pregnant woman. “I’ll lead with the goats, followed by Henry.” As she gave a pointed look at the driver, she took the goats’ leash from him. “Then you, followed by the horse.” She nodded towards the wolf. “Ruby will bring up the rear.” Sighing, she pulled another rag from a pouch on her belt and quickly wetted it. “Here,” she said gruffly, shoving the cloth towards the driver. “Put this over your wound. We don’t have time to salve it now.” Without waiting for a response, she started their trek across the dead field.

Eugenia worried about the speed of their progress now that they were burdened with such a motley and wounded group. She hoped one of the free wolf packs heard Ruby’s call. Hopefully, the promise of fresh meat would draw them and obscure their tracks. Something had to go their way.

~SQ~

Pacing back and forth across his small living room, Killian glared at the tablet he held in his hand. It took all of his willpower not to smash the damn device into the nearest wall. Finally, he leaned it against an empty liquor bottle on the kitchen counter before grabbing a used glass out of the sink.

Suddenly the _Please Standby_ screen of Gold Industries flickered away to reveal a very perturbed Jefferson. “I thought I told to _never_ contact me here,” he seethed, glaring into the screen. “This had better be good.” He forced himself to relax as he resettled in his seat.

“Oh, it’s bloody fantastic!” Killian clarified, pouring himself a drink. “I think you left a very important bit out of your _meticulously_ prepared intel.” He kicked back his shot of rum and slammed the glass down before pointing at the bandage on his right shoulder. “One of your fucking wolves did this!”

Rolling his eyes, Jefferson wasn’t impressed with the antics. He idly drummed his fingers on his desk. “I didn’t expect two wolves to give you so much trouble.” He was cut off before he could offer any medical services or fiscal compensation.

“Oh, the wolves aren’t the bloody issue,” Hook sneered. After another shot, he leaned in towards the tablet. “That human bitch is a _medeis_ ,” he growled. “She set two of my boys on fire—Smee saw one go up in flames, himself.” He wiggled his fingers to illustrate his point. The damn woman was going to pay, especially for killing Jacqueline.

Jefferson’s face paled as he stuttered, “W—what?!” How the hell did someone miss that? His mind immediately raced with the implications. “Impossible!” he countered as his face hardened.

“Well, someone fucked up,” Hook drawled, glaring at the befuddled Jefferson. Seeing the other man’s fear calmed his nerves a bit. This wasn’t a plot against him. Neal Cassidy wasn’t that clever, and Jefferson was just an errand boy for Rupert Gold. He poured himself another drink. “Now, there’s a pissed off medeis with no JHAC in the wind.” His eyes met the posh executive’s.

“Our arrangement still stands,” Jefferson said firmly, regaining his facilities. He knew without a doubt that Gold would want asset 15-196.97-H-472-00L back more than anything. Scowling, he slowly said, “Do we have an understanding?”

“Aye,” Hook answered, closing the connection. He’d make his play after he captured the little bitch and killed the wolves. Knocking back another shot, he shuffled over to the sliding glass doors and gazed out into suburbia. A dark smile graced his face as a plan formed.

~SQ~

It was dusk when Eugenia decided they should stop and make camp for the night. Their progress had been painfully slow between a heavily burdened horse and two on-foot humans—one wounded. However, the hodgepodge group did manage to put some distance between them and the destroyed vardo. Unless someone decided to go off-roading, which wasn't likely, they were well out of range for any equipped ground vehicles.

Frowning, Eugenia ground tethered the horse as she watched David try to start a fire. The farmer had the foresight to snag a few tumble weeds during their trek, and even though it would be a warm night, the smoke would ward off the pesky insects. The high-pitched yips, soft barks and distant howls reassured her that they would sleep protected tonight.

"Do they have to make all that noise?" Mary Margaret whispered, dropping down next to her husband. She watched him fiddle with the fire starter.

Ruby huffed. Plopping her butt down next to her unconscious sister, she stared out into the growing darkness. Her ears moved, focusing on the sounds of her kin. Apparently, the signaled pack was extremely grateful for the fresh kill of horse and goat meat. They took each precaution of not only obscuring the trail but providing a deterring form of protection.

"They're just letting us know they're still here," Eugenia explained flatly. She had to admit these migrant farmers were taking things rather well. "They're going to watch over us until we reach the edge of their territory." She imagined the massive open fields made excellent buffer zones between the wild packs. Some wolves could be quite territorial.

"Ah ha!" David exclaimed in triumph as he finally managed to start a fire. He cupped his hands around his tiny flame and gently blew, encouraging it to grow. Hurriedly, he started to break apart another tumble weed. Although they burned quickly, the troublesome plants were quite plentiful. He left his wife to tend the small fire as he gathered several others around camp.

In the following minutes, the campfire was warm enough to boil water in the battered pot David had salvaged from the vardo. There was some casual conversation about Eugenia's enchanted canteen as the group settled in for a quiet dinner of MREs from Henry's pack. Every once in a while, a sharp bark followed by the rolling rumble of soft growls would draw their attention.

"The pups are playing," Eugenia explained, poking the fire with the large knife she kept sheathed in her boot.

"That's cute," Mary Margaret commented hesitantly. She glanced over at Regina. "Will she be alright?" These people, who she was quickly suspecting were runners or, at the very least, criminals of some sort, had saved their lives. She unconsciously laid a hand on her enlarged belly. Even if those men had spared their lives, there was no way she nor her husband would’ve made it to the next settlement.

"It's hard to tell," the grandmother admitted. Her eyes cut over to her granddaughters and Henry. "She's been through a lot the last few weeks." That was an understatement. Simply being under Cora Mills's appraisal had been enough to condemn the weaker willed potential courtesans. She gritted her teeth as she let her anger over the situation fester.

The teenager delicately wiped the dirt and sweat from Regina's face. "I hope you wake up soon," he whispered. He bit his lower lip, looking down at the damp rag in his hands. If he couldn't be with Emma, then the brunette and the wolves were the next best thing in his book. He smiled as Ruby laid her head on his shoulder.

"So, what happens to us now?" David asked, scraping the dregs of his meal together for another bite.

"David," Mary Margaret gently scolded. She shifted uncomfortably. If he angered these people, they were doomed.

“That’s up to you,” Eugenia replied, cutting a hard gaze at the couple. A few snarky retorts tickled her tongue, but she heard Ruby’s sigh. Instead, she explained, “I suppose after we meet up with the others at camp, we’ll escort you to Broken Bell.” She took a swig of cold water from her canteen. “You can make your way from there,” she trailed off, looking out into the night.

“It’s not a bad place,” Henry added, flashing a bright smile. He pursed his lips, adding, “It’s not very big, though.” Sadly, he’d only been there a handful of times. Emma didn’t like him going into town.

“Maybe I can get a job with the herbalist,” the pregnant woman suggested to her husband with a hint of hope. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it could earn them a fair bit of currency. She leaned her head on David’s uninjured shoulder.

“Oh, Broken Bell doesn’t have one of those,” the teenager supplied, shaking his head. “There’s Doc, but he’s not really a doctor. He’s a miner. He works with his brothers, but I think he knows a little bit about medicine.” He had met that oddball family during one of his trips.

“What the hell do they mine?” Eugenia asked after a snort. She hadn’t heard of any independent mines in this region for years. “Midas owns all those rights, boy, and there hasn’t been much of anything coming out of this ground for decades.” That fool Midas, once upon a time, was an independent owner who had gotten extremely lucky and had struck it big. So big, it enabled him to buy mine after mine after until he owned them all.

Shrugging, Henry wetted his rag again. He folded it and neatly laid it across Regina’s forehead. “They work in an old mine just outside of the Iron Wastes.” He quickly drank the remaining water.

“Huh,” David scratched his chin and said, “It must’ve been abandoned when the farmland dried up.” His gaze dropped down to the small campfire.

“Like I said,” Eugenia grumbled as she lay back on the hard ground, resting her head on her pack. She really missed her shitty cot, now. “We’ll take you to Broken Bell.” She hoped everyone else would follow suit and get some sleep.

~SQ~

**End of Part 1**


End file.
